Tuesday, September 2, 2014



I know someday you'll have a beautiful life
I know you'll be a sun in somebody else's sky, but why
Why, why can't it be, why can't it be mine
“Black,” Pearl Jam

i can’t help myself
drawn again and again

like Notting Hill it calls to me
against my reservations
about the unreality of pretty people

i offer this as explanation
recognizing it likely fails
as justification absolving me:

near the end after the dance
Tiffany believes she is the unchosen
running from the hall crying

and then Pat chases her
asking her to read one more letter
when Tiffany realizes she is the chosen

that for me is almost everything
the worst being the unchosen
and the wonderful possibility being the chosen

i forgive everything else untrue
about the film and pretty people
parading before us as if such is possible

because you see it is not pretty we want
those who are the discarded and unchosen
but to be that one true and only chosen

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