No song reminds me of November during the college years more than this song. I find I can’t always listen to this song anymore because it no longer makes me feel good. I have to be in a specific mood before I will put the stolen compact disc in the player.
“That road was made of flesh…”
November, chilly air, countryside bike rides, leaving campus from the art way, zooming past college ave, standing on the pedals, gliding and coasting,
“Now it’s dead and now it’s beat…”
That communication class, a dead professor, the precocious one that lies next to me, he only attends once a week because of me, that rainbow plaid dress, stolen photographs, we all smoke and drift into the symphony we’re orchestrating and afterwards I will be taken home in the dirk mobile, the golden cruiser
“There is one thing that I’ve found…”
Yevgheni visits, voodoo magic wardrobe, readings in a science museum, the Russian poet, he once understood Ginsberg’s heart, “if you truly care about someone you make time for them,”
“I ain’t seen these things in vain…”