backbeat

i sequester myself away so i can solder together little pieces of thin steel called music wire. it's called music wire because it is what's behind the keys of a piano, lifting them up and allowing them to make sound. i listen to the metallic ripple of the wind chime, something delicate moving through the air. my mom had a mystical experience out back near her metal angel ; she saw jimmy in a sunbeam and felt a new sense of peace about it all. when i wind the bend near their farm at dusk i think about it. 

i fly somewhere for five days and don't tell anyone. i buy speedboat but don't read it ; i start narcissus & goldmund instead. i miss the sauna ; i miss my friends in new york ; i am also, childishly, afraid to return. i must remember that i dreaded coming back after montana and then i came back and not only was i fine but i was happy and it was my birthday. i took a photo of a neon red heart and a photo of periwinkle smudges in the sky and a photo of a statue of mew behind glass and a photo of yellow and white flowers unfolding. 

i use the soldering iron on the good days. on the bad days i think about the past. i never used to think about the past. i wrote a poem called 'time's fake.' later i wrote another poem called 'mumblecore 2 (low-quality contemporary poem) / alternate title: time’s fake 2 (maybe time isn’t fake).' i've only let madeline read it. riley says the poems in my chapbook are nostalgic. i said how dare you, no they are not. she points out a poem i wrote about a boy running toward the full moon. i said okay, sure. 

i think maybe i should become a buddhist. i place mystics and zen masters on my nightstand. my parents go to church every sunday, small white clapboard structure with a single wooden cross on the wall. in a clearing in the woods with the new, young pastor, who has a spiritual gift. i write in my diary that my parents have seen their lives as an opportunity to build structure and i have seen mine as a vessel for feeling. now i am building a structure out of music wire to serve as a vessel for a feeling. this as i am synthesizing the aspects of my life, the orientation toward art and the orientation toward stability. 

i think kitty has an astrological gift, a real sense for the tone and the mood of the stars. i follow her astrology-instagram which she decorates with the paintings of hilma af klint. new york felt different after that af klint show at the guggenheim. i think that was the start of the change. i think about the term vibe shift and how some people used it to refer to entering a post-enlightenment age of enchantment and some people used it to refer to a cultural movement called indie sleaze that arose from early 2010s nostalgia. kitty says venture capitalists are trying to buy her entire catalog for $100,000 and a commenter says it's because they sense that tumblr nostalgia is the next wave ; i mean, yeah, it's already happening, it's not separate from indie sleaze, so sure, yes they see dollar signs. she says she won't sell for less than $5 million and i think that's right, girl. she was always the coolest, so spring breakers, with the ethic of an indie artist. i hope she gets her due someday ; like charli she was ahead of her time. 

i listen to the song she has pinned on spotify, a 2019 track called look demure, and it's good. it has this one part where over a sparkly lofi dance beat she sings on repeat i'm used to it by now. she is in her 30s also ; i think about how aging feels like this. chariot, also in their thirties, describing moving through the heartache of a recent breakup: i'm used to it by now. what lifts me up is the backing track. she may be in a place that is heavy with the past, but the beat is so hopeful, so expansive, so new.