Today, I was thinking about a girl I used to know. She took me places, taught me how to have fun, and never messed around. While she was a good girl. I'm sure she wasn't crazy about Elvis in a Tom Petty sort of way. She did, however, know where to go to have fun. Anyway, I met her thorough a friend of a friend.
I couldn't help but think about how she took me to dance clubs even though I couldn't dance. I was embarrassing to say the least. Anyway, we both, actually all three of us came from the same little hick town. And those girls, no matter how laughable my dance moves were, still claimed to be my friend. (You don't even know.)
Anyway, the songs from those times were ringing in my ears like a saltshaker... I went ahead to my bookshelf to pick up the only book I have about raps. Kanye West, believe this or not, was a book I picked up in my grocery store.
I read about Kanye. I read the lyrics to his songs. I flipped through the back of the book to show where the credit was given to the songwriters who had written with him. I sang the rhymes all silent and thought about the music I was listening to at the same time I was going out to clubs and these places trying to learn how to dance. I was a clown of dance partner, comical I am sure.
Anyway, I remember when Kanye's Through the Wire was playing non-stop on television. I remember his Jesus Walks. I remember his story about how he rolled his vehicle, how he almost died, how he was in the same hospital where other famous artists had passed away. And through the TV, I saw how a guy could turn tragedy into something more than himself by refusing to stay quiet when his jaw was wired shut.
Now, I have said this, you might not like my spin on what I have heard or about what I have read. Although, there is something there. So, thanks to whomever order this book that I found in my grocery store because this book made me want to write poetry, again.