writing 10.7.08

...my words are often found not in my own voice, but in the voices surrounding me, so you'll find me:

Listening to the subway clank its way to the West Village.
Listening to the sound of my mother in Ohio.
Listening to the rumblings of my stomach.
Listening to the worry in my head of a fast approaching deadline.
Listening to the whispery, country musings of Miss Neko Case.
Listening to the wind in the park.
Listening to Bernadette.
Listening to the squirrel that kept us company.
Listening to the thoughts tumbling around in my head.
Listening to the words jumping off the pages of advertising award show books.
Listening to the sound of my keyboard.
Listening to the stranger across from me.
Listening to subway meandering back to Brooklyn.
Listening to my footsteps on the deserted sidewalk.
Listening to Peter be happy about his new girl.
Listening to my keyboard finding its voice.
Listening to Einav hugging me through the phone.
Listening to my keyboard asking for more time to write – even though its 2am.
Listening to my body tell me its time to stop writing.
Listening to the sound of my worries slipping out the front door.