I thought about the first time I heard this song.

I thought about being in Seattle and finding two dbl 7-inches
at Singles Going Steady.

I watched 9 Songs and didn't like it.

I thought what's not to like about sex and rock and roll?

I thought about seeing B.R.M.C. in Portland and being underwhelmed.

I though about singular notes. About scales. About apreggios. About chords.

About fuzz. About feedback. About twin instruments. About counter-melodies.

I thought about her muddling mint in the kitchen.

About sitting on a porch with this song playing as morning shifted to afternoon.

I thought about the string buzz just before it goes silent. About an amp hum.

About exhaustion. About a bed. The space which surrounds/ which engulfs.

I thought about gray-blue mornings and emptiness spreading.