Well I run to the rock
Please hide me I run to the rock
Please hide me I run to the rock
Please hide me lord
All on that day

Well the rock cried out
I cant hide you the rock cried out
I cant hide you the rock cried out
I aint gunna hide you god
All on that day


I walked through this hallway tonight it was cold and the lights above my head gave off this strange humming sound. Humming like old women on older porches in June in cities I would never make it in for no better reason than clean things ..good things..sweet things frighten me. I walk with my hands in my pockets, my arms close to my body. I used to say that it was to keep the cold out, but I think it's more to keep the cold in. I caught something moving out of the corner of my eye. Pretty girl with hair too many colors to be a concious decision, but rather a lack of decision. We passed each other.. it's common to do that here and I don't have anything to say anyway.

I get to the cafeteria... and I am instantly reminded of a poem I heard once. I steal a napkin as I passed by a table of Interns chatting away their performance punishments and I scribble the lines down and tack them to a message board and I don't look back. Well not directly.. I never really look at people directly anymore..

I buy a water and a banana from a woman who makes small talk, I stare at her lips trying to figure out what the fuck she's saying. Her english is perfect, but her language is foreign..I don't want to talk. I stopped talking a long time ago and think that's half my problem. I can't muster a smile, but I nod. I catch a glimpse of people reading what I wrote and as I slip out the door and head upstairs.

My sister, rocking her glam girl Sci-Fi Hair cut, leans against a wall rationalizing responsibilty to barnyard animals, I wonder if she feels as lumnious as she is. I turn a corner listening to my mother's coos to my father ...her sounds are guilty, because his wolf crying made it hard for her trust in him..and this time.. this time there really was a wolf.

He looks at me with those blue ring eyes, smaller than the superhero I remembered from my youth. They say I am just like him, and I scream that I am not...but it's moments like these that I imagine myself in that bed and wonder who I will call Rock.

What I wrote on that napkin
"I can tell by the mini thins and the way you drive
that we're both of us are taken by novelty. We both
believe in mean gods.

We both spend our money on things that break too easily
...ya know ..like people
and I can tell that you think you've had it rough
so especially you should know. It's what I do

I dream. I get high sometimes..and I am a roll
outta here one day, just might not get to drive."
-Buddy Wakefield