@Mountain Goats
"Source Decay" - written by john darnielle
------------------------------------------
-------
Once a week I make the drive
two hours east to check the Austin post office box.
I take the detour through our old neighborhood,
see all the Chevy Impalas in their front yards up on blocks,
and I park in an alley and I read through the postcards
that you continue to send:
where as indirectly as you can you ask what I remember.
I like these torture devices from my old best friend.
Well I'll tell you what I know
like I swore I always would --
I don't think it's gonna do you any good:
I remember the train headed south out of Bangkok down toward the water.
I always get a late start,
when the sun's going down
and the traffic's thinning out
and the glare is hard to take. I wish the
West Texas highway was a Möbius strip --
I could ride it out forever. When I feel my heart break,
I almost swear I hear it happen, it's that clear and that hard.
I come in off the highway and I park in my front yard.
I fall out of the car
like a hostage from a plane,
think of you a while and
start wishing it would rain.
I remember the train headed south out of Bangkok down toward the water.
I come into the house,
put on a pot of coffee,
walk the floors a little while.
I set the postcard on a table with all the others like it,
start sorting through the pile.
I check the pictures and the postmarks
and the captions and the stamps
for signs of any pattern at all.
When I come up empty-handed, the feeling almost overwhelms me.
I let a few of my defenses fall
and I smile a bitter smile -- it's not a pretty thing to see --
I think about a railroad platform back in 1983
and I remember the train headed south out of Bangkok down toward toward
the water