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Á¦¸ñ: Album of the Year
°¡¼ö: The Good Life

The first time that I met her I was throwing up in the ladies room stall. She asked me if I needed anything; I said, ¡°I think I spilled my drink¡±. And that¡¯s how it started (or so I¡¯d like to believe)¡¦

She took me to her mother¡¯s house outside of town where the stars hang down. She said she¡¯d never seen someone so lost, I said I¡¯d never felt so found ? and then I kissed her on the cheek¡¦ and so she kissed me on the mouth.

Spring was poppin¡¯ daises up ¡®round rusted trucks and busted lawn chairs. We moved into a studio in Council Bluffs to save a couple bucks. Where the mice came out at night, neighbors were screaming all the time. We¡¯d make love in the afternoons to Chelsea Girls and Bachelor No. 2, I¡¯d play for her some songs I wrote, she¡¯d joke and say I¡¯m shooting through the roof, I¡¯d say, ¡°They¡¯re all for you, dear, I¡¯ll write the album of the year.¡±

And I know she loved me then, I swear to God she did. It's way she¡¯d bite my lower lip and push her hips against my hips and dig her nails so deep into my skin.

The first time that I met her I was convinced I had finally found the one. She was convinced I was under the influence of all those drunken romantics ? I was reading Fante at the the time ? I had bukowski on the mind. She got a job at Jacob¡¯s serving cocktails to the local drunks. Against her will. I fit the the bill: I perched down at the end of the bar, She Said, ¡°Space is not just a place for stars ? I gave you an inch, you want a house with a yard.¡± And I know she loved me once, but those days are gone. She used to call me everyday from a pay phone on her break for lunch ? just to say she can¡¯t wait to come home.

The last time that I saw her she was picking through which records were hers. Her clothes were packed in boxes, with some pots and pans and books and a toaster. Just then a mouse scurried across the floor¡¦.we started laughing ¡®til it didn¡¯t hurt.

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Album of the Year
The Good Life

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