Seattle Daze     A perfectly natural question.  What the hell happened?  The question surrounds me, leaving scattered thoughts.  Hiding in plain sight, confusion towers before me.  What to do followed what went awry.  Said and done, was I right or wrong.  And like a chill wind's temperature, does it matter.
Thank you doom and gloom.  Some times it's good to have company.  Sometimes not such good company.  But it leaves.  Like this mood, which feeds on, and consumes itself.  A pattern seen.  Like rain's, green and purple swirls, in an ugly oily goo.  A good funk spoiled, by a happy patch of blue.
	The bite of Vouvray eats at concern.  Won't outlast cigarettes and money.  The darker it gets, the lighter it becomes.  Who gives a shit?  I did, and that's what hurt.  Now, it's important, it just don't matter.  "Shit happens around zero", and one way or the other, ya gotta move.
Going home, I remember being there.  Going home being there, I can't remember a thing.  Touring memory lane.  Tripping on despair, through anger, into acceptance.  A hard daze working.  But I still wonder, "What the hell happened?"

© January 22 1996

 update: January 28 1996