spokane.

i watch as we float through lakes. toast and avocado for breakfast. fruit for dinner. feeling the midwest draw near, butterfly knots in my stomach that are released nightly into the audience.

spokane seems a lot like san diego,faceless and without anything to anchor it.

can't sleep in hotels but the van's steady rhythm rocks me to sleep on the long drives.

towns and cities pass us by, and i am watching them from my seat, as family guy blasts from the mini-tv.

i think about your fingers dancing across the guitar, and it seems far and gone now, january has become october, and time is not our friend.

los angeles seems like forever, and its only been three days, and these are the best of times and the slowest of times, and i have come to know what waiting means.

silvertone is becoming my love. strings and open chords and ideas are churning.

the little prince curls into my ribs before i stop breathing and start dreaming.

meet me by the snow-covered tree in the field of green