Rainy Wednesday. Turning to cold and sleet.
Take a beat and talk to the old woman with one eye hobbling up and down the sidewalk calling out for her dog, Rosie. Big white dogs wearing coats wander off too, but I tell her, mine tend to come home when they get bored, smelling of death, full of love and needing water. I have no words of comfort left other than “wait” or “stop waiting,” depending on the situation. I live these days in the gradual disconnecting of things. There is too much comfort in the swing of the second hand on a cheap battery powered clock, the tinny speaker sound of a hand-held battery powered radio kicking out a really quite lovely acoustic and piano cover of “I Would Die for You” by Prince and the Revolution1. I once thought it would someday bother me when the radio I grew up on was covered by someone too young to have been born when I first cranked the dial to scream out lyrics surrounded in a loud, auditory silence. Now I just appreciate the quality of a lovely voice and thoughtful composition, and the gaining speed of obsolescence.
and
one
and
two
and
three
and
the
dogs
they
come
home
the
smell
of
death
&
love
n'
want
ing
a pat
a bowl
of
water
love
love
love
and
four
- Rose Cousins, Bear’s Den & Christof van der Ven (2019) ↩︎
