There is a funk...

in the air.

I cannot shake it.

Two dogs go racing after a cat. That cat could take them both, but she runs anyway.

She runs because she has no where else to go. Nothing worth watching is on TV.

They chase her because of a poem they heard a folk singer recite. It was rap music by another name.

They have forgotten the words.

The don't remember the tune either. So they run.

I met Amy Ray of the Indigo Girls twice. She lived in the next apartment when I moved to Georgia.

She decided to move. Her cat had run away. Her apartment was empty: no furniture and no cat. "Here kitty kitty kitty."

She said was she moving to North Georgia, "where the livin' is free."

I have been to north Georgia. It is not free there.

It was the second time I met her, when she was looking for the cat. I listened to her music every day when I lived in Germany. She could only offer a cliche in person. I expected so much more. Meine Gute!

That cliche banged around inside my head like an imitation Seiko watch in an empty clothes dryer. I walked away with my head hung low in disappointment.

I wanted the blue back in the sky, and the dogs to go back home.

I wanted her cat to come back so she could leave.

I
     want
          to erase
          the fall
          from
     my brain.