A Crimson Bird Flying

Bottom of the 2nd, no score. Tom Glavine better gain some control. The walks are going to hurt.

Yesterday, on the sunny side of Orchard Street, not a single person walked alone. Every one was a part of two. Did you see? I watched as the couples strolled, arms and fingers tangled like ivy around a chain link fence. Like Isobel Cambpell's soft breath fluttering around Mark Lanegan's gentle grumble.

Top of the 4th, tied at one.

Do you wanna come walk with me?
Do you wanna come walk with me?

I'm not saying I love you, I won't say I'll be true
There's a crimson bird flying when I go down on you
I'm so weary and lonesome, and it's cold in the night
And the path to your doorway is a pathway of light

Do you wanna come walk with me?
Do you wanna come walk with me?

Bottom of the 6th, Mets up three to one.

I went for a walk around the block, just far enough to not get lost. The Lower East Side is a playful, colorful maze to me. Its streets change names like the weather, blow in the wind like red, yellow, and green flags tied to iron fire escapes. I walked around, thinking of you, and singing again:

Wishing, hoping for that old familiar feeling
That takes you miles above, yeah: it's called love;
Would you do it for me? Cuz I'm feeling lonely.

Praying, hoping, and I'll leave the door wide open
I see you and you cast your spell
But come and sit by me, cuz I'm feeling lonely.

Glavine goes six, keeping the walks down to three while striking out five and allowing only one earned run. Heilman, however, gets tagged for a run in relief, to bring the game within one. Washington is threatening. If they didn't leave room for drama, they wouldn't be the Mets, and we wouldn't love them. I know you're a Yankees fan, but I won't hold it against you. You can't be perfect. Do you wanna come walk with me?

Top of the seventh, three to two.

I sat on some orange and white pedestrian barricade, as the sun crossed the street. I enjoyed a slice of pizza while the laundry spun and spun. Couples stopped to kiss beneath the blossoming trees outside your bedroom window, and I waited for your call. Do you wanna?

Final score: three to two, Mets.

aDub's picture

Colours ANDColours ANDColours AND...Nobody couples in my neighbourhood. They're too busy deciding that they are too young and that they just want to have fun. It gets tiresome 'cause it seems walking alone is the only option. They also seem to be deciding that vegetarianism is the they way to go. Why do those decisions go hand in hand?

Jim Teacher's picture

LoDuca sold that play at the plate brilliantly. Gee whiz.

Clifton's picture

Lurking in sight of the bedroom window will do you no good. I know, from experience. Get that guitar, stand UNDER the window, and play somethin' pretty. That'll work. Music hath power. I'm sorry about the false hopes raised by the Mets' victory -- they just can't hit. Maybe next year.

Stephen Mejias's picture

The Mets are all about false hopes. I swear: being a Mets fan is a disease. Being a Mets fan is a depression.