*POETRY WARNING* Another American Pie (much love to Mike Doughty)

By débora Ewing
Time stops in muffler shops.

Reading Slanky while I wait
~Transatlantic~

From somewhere there was sweet perfume
While Don sang me a maudlin tune

Words and notes began to meld
With the spark of heat striking
Metal and I couldn't separate them,

and it didn't matter...

There we were all in one place -
You, me, the music, the spark, the Slanky,
The old man in the khaki pants chewing his calluses

And the greasy, gaptoothed-grinning muffler repair man.

*

Cut to 20 years later, from IAD through LAX to the Other Washington,
I find this poem in a 20-year-old journal thrown offhand into my travel-bag.

The universe is cyclical. We are all...




Further Reading:

Slanky - M.Doughty

Don't just read it; buy it. I guarantee at least one new perspective for you - Cookie Monster if nothing else.  I was mentally reciting Outlying Seattle as I rode the LINK to SeaTac.  My favorite is the one about butter-churning, though. Also, I want to say the title of the poem referenced is actually Bicostal, but "Transatlantic" is what was written in my journal, so there it remains.

Mike Doughty is creating stuff
Sometimes finding a dime is all it takes to keep going. Throw a dollar in his hat.

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