Lovesong

Moving boxes shelving books is my idea of good honest work, and we all go out there and bum around the shipping floor getting shit done, and everyone brings cds so that they're piled up top of the changer, and whoever's putting on music in the morning just grabs six or so and throws them on. Hodge podge eclectic, of course, and I've learn to let the music run like water off my ducky strong back, and sure, maybe there's accordian, or sure, maybe there's the Go-Gos, nothing much to me. So I'm in my little den of order, rolling carts of reciepts and books around me, scanning scanning blip blip blip, and somebody's put the Cure on, and I just about die, because it's really not fair. You can't just put the Cure on. That's not how it works. At least not an entire cd of Robert Smith & Co. It's too much for mortal souls to handle. Throw one song on a mix, or something, but hearing him and them so much in one day, like you'll never know when they're gonna come on the overhead, but then they do and he's saying "just like heaven" and you're back there touching heel to ankle and dancing back and forth on some rubber mat put down so nobody strains their back, because you can't not dance to the Cure, even if you barely dance, and then he's singing " however far away" and who could help it, really, all I can think of is every stupid shared moment of skin on skin, some bright morning with squares of lit sun, some dark night lamp or nothing glowing"whatever words I say" and sure, sure, I believe you again "you make me feel like I am young again". You know everyone else is doing it, too, see here how we're all sort of silent when the Cure comes on, like everyone's about to cry but maybe, just maybe, we can get through this song so scan scan scan and check an ISBN, but then so thwarted because the cd changer skips and stammers to another song, but, oh, "pictures of you" and kill me now, right now "looking so long for the words to be true".