Unread books, silent guitar

January 10, 2009

There are shelves of unread books. There’s a Spanish guitar in the corner that needs some loving. There are piles of notebooks empty apart from the first page. There’s a box of vocabulary cards I keep meaning to read. A city out there has my name on it, and no, it’s not Dubai. There are Kurosawa dvds I’ve never seen. Ingmar Bergman too. I haven’t covered a war yet. Two months will pass before Sibelius is completely downloaded; then I can write music with the guide a musician let me borrow. I never paid attention in Arabic class. The song, the song, the song. The perfect retort.

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