passing on the past pt 1

well not really a poem here just a bit of rambling. I was chatting with someone today that I feel is fast becoming a friend, and for those that know me, know that friends are lifelong commitments to me. well chatting to (hmmm let's call her Kat) Kat always seems to remind me of all that use to be the goods things in my Ex. Just a fun, interesting person to chat to, often about nothing, but seemingly important things to us. I often think if (hmm let's call my Ex Christie, ah that will make her mad) Christie had not lost her mind, we would be where. Hmmm well considering that I left her I guess I am not sure, I just know that I didn't like the person that i was becoming around her. She seemed to bring out the worst in me. I know it was all my fault (she often told me so), I know I was a horrible person to live with, I was obsessed with work and was fond of money and things. I was obsessed with what I would leave behind and not with what I had in front of me. Oh well there are other fish in the pond and some without worms. Of course I spoiled her to my own demise. I gave her everything I could afford to and eventually none of it was good enough for her. I felt like I was riding a coal burning black train running way past it's prime into the age of diesels, and I was just to small to hold everything. I kept piling things on hoping that one of those cars full of goods would bring back that wide eyed innocence that she use to look at me with so many years ago.

parking under the bridge

this empty affliction i met a girl in at a texmex grill and she left with me in a rush of passion that poured out from her as we parked under the bridge over by the founders park she seemed wonderful but not to clean when i asked about her perfume she said it was called "earthy girl" and i said yeah it does smell like dirt so come on over here and watch us as we rumble around she said she was married but getting a divorce i said that is okay i am divorced but getting married i left her there by the tracks and drove away wondering what use to be in those empty boxcars