Song lyrics are from "Fork in the Road" by Brutally Frank.
It’s almost a cliché scene:
bright blue cloudless sky,
perfect green grass,
flowing water bouncing off rocks,
a girl laying on a bench,
notebook open, pen scrawling away.
What’s less cliché
are the sounds streaming through my headphones—
a 3-piece, fast paced punkabilly band screaming
Get me out of this fucking hell—
and the thoughts running through my head.
These thoughts are of the less pretty,
yet more intriguing sights,
on my way to this pristine park.
The plate with the stubbed out cigarette butt
abandoned in the alleyway behind a restaurant.
The seemingly hastily drawn face
on a peeling orange post
which I stopped and contemplated for 3 minutes.
Dancing water jets spew out of concrete
and draw me back to the here and now and
to the eternal question I face
as a poet, an artist, a human:
How do I rectify the beautiful and the not too pretty,
and fit them into one?
The white caps in the river, their power,
catch my attention,
they compliment the pounding drum beats,
marrying my auditory and my visual.
I’m reminded again that sometimes
I need to stop searching
and just observe,
and write down the experience.