when you were young you were
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Track:The King Of Carrot Flowers, Pt. One
I'm reading Food & Wine at In & Out, the kid this-close next to me is scribbling a post card, addressed to Australia. It’s the Hollywood kind, a big picture of the star-walk and the sign. The kind I might send, for the irony, if I were the kind to send post cards home. If I could remember to send post cards. I want to ask him if it’s all everything he hoped; I’d like him to tell me how it feels to have gotten here just now. I want to hear about packing, and planning, and saying goodbye. I glance at his backpack and I think … I want to hear about running. In return I can share about lunch hours, about the boots that might be the only thing I’d take, about a sad & sudden sense that all Destinations are somehow lonely. About how I’m certain I don’t believe that. About how I never used to. He takes out his iPod and scrolls to the exact same song I’m on, like a nod: hey, tourist - you can’t fool me. You are running away. He mouths, post station? I shrug. I’m just visiting, too.
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