Today was spent in Newburyport with my parents and my brother, who came up from Connecticut for the day; an early birthday present on his part, since he works all this week. There was ocean. There were used books. There was chocolate-dipped ginger strong enough to clear the sinuses. Especially since I had "The Dreadnought" (and Placebo's "Running Up That Hill," but there's no story about that) stuck in my head while wandering around the Custom House Maritime Museum, I was delighted to learn that the famous packet ship had been built in town, courtesy of Currier & Townsend in 1853. And at Aquatini for dinner, I discovered—to no one's very great surprise, except for my brother who considers gin undrinkable—that I think a pomegranate martini with lime gin is delicious. I'm sure karma will be leveled sometime in the next week, but so far this month continues awesome.
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- 1: On the edge and off the avenue
- 2: We just ended up clutching at the empty rituals like gamblers clutching long odds
- 3: If one year's back on my shoulder
- 4: In my time on earth, I said too much, but not nearly, not nearly enough
- 5: Every song we sing and every kind of place
- 6: A wreck of possibilities, a volatility of stars
- 7: And there's this all-night garage and the 7-Eleven
- 8: I saw the world crashing all around your face
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