novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- lori i miss seeing you in my mailbox something terrible. whenever i'd get mail from you i'd cart it around proudly, opening it in public places. i always wondered what it would be like to meet you. once t asked me "how do you know if lori is a real peron? what if she's some character made up by some horny old canadian guy?"
you're real, you're magic bones, you're too far away to see clearly. i always thought that if i knew you in a more regular context, we'd be inseparable (whenever we were together) i had a dream that you owned a van and we went trapizing around america, surprizing far away people and forgotten pen pals. we made music in ohio, movies in georgia, saved stray cats in brooklyn and ate bagels out of a dumpster in boston. i think the bagels thing is because whenever i hear stories about fantastical road trips they somehow involve excess breakfast-type foods thrown away and then retrieved. and whenever we touched hands, there was a spark of electricity. 6:34 pm - 2.24.01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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