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“This song goes out to all you beautiful,
American girls and boys.”

Sometimes I run into a song quite by accident, and in that taken by surprise state I want to stop time for awhile and just listen. I want to sit alone with the song, the lyrics, the melody and take it all in. And, then I want to write to it, see where it takes me, what characters and images and plots the song pulls out of me.

This song does that to me, makes me crave those moments, and the space to write to all of
it.

I see two young boys, well I would call them young, and boys. They are somewhere in-between boys and men, those adolescent years, where everything changes. They live in a small town just outside a city, close enough to see it in the skyline and to visit now and then, but far enough away to feel not part of it.

There is not much to do in this town. A bowling alley with only one working lane, a diner owned by one of the boys Aunt’s, a Wallmart that helped to shut down all the smaller stores all once owned by people both of the boys knew. There is a parking lot, one of those non-chain 24-hour convenience store parking lots, and that is where they sit most nights, especially in the Summer. Or sometimes, they wander back through the empty lot behind one of the closed down businesses, the part that leads into the what plays at being a forest.

They get high and look at the parts of the sky that the city lights up from afar – light pollution, I think they call it, and they silently discuss escape.

I Got High :: Clem Snide

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