what

i usually talk about is me. what i usually think about is me. i even buy stuff for me like some thousand dollar wooden box made with teak that will somehow connect my italian speakers to 38 tubes and swoop me to ’58 jersey with rudy van gelder recording turrentine and blue mitchell and pepper adams. what i usually hope for is me. what i ask about involves me, too. and what i do is all about me. and what i shouldn’t say is i’m thinking about me again. and what i will confess is i’m thinking about mew but i’m almost ready to think about you. but i’m looking for is the groove which is about me all over again like vinyl spinning or my heartbeat revving in camel which is position 22 in bikram which is now called hot yoga cause bikram couldn’t stay away from the sweaty sweet curves of female neophytes. so sometimes, i guess, i’m looking at you. am thinking about you. and if you break my heart, i may still think about us. just a little.

but i’ll still keep writing about me.