It's Only A Short Walk Home

So all the kids (and you know that the kids are alright) are moving to LA or they're all moving back to Boston - depending on who you talk to. Oh, do you know so and so? Ain't it grand? All this knowing we know? It's funny I guess, what you think you know.

It's all the rage - this being creative and taking a chance.
At 32 or 36 there's still time.

"There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

And I have known the eyes already, known them all
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin"

For the entirety of this poem http://www.bartleby.com/198/1.html

4 hours of sleep makes for kind of self indulgent blog entries. On an entirely unrelated note - I am seeing the Gravel Pit reunite this Saturday at TT and the Bears. It seems like another lifetime sometimes http://www.lollipop.com/archive_temp.php3?content=issue48/48-12-01.html. Who am I again?