Someone Great

(Inspired by an LCD Soundsystem song of the same name and Laphroaig single malt scotch whisky)

I am away from something I know, but its essence envelops me on cold meanders down 14th street toward the river in the winter. Simulacra surround me. I am reminded of feelings old, things past things. Someone is moving out and on the curb I see the flattened boxes and I think of flattened boxes, how they're kept under beds and when I will fill them, they will have all that I want to keep inside of them. Boxes are like that someone; a thought with a meaning that now seems flat (and old like a Kerry sticker), but has flaps for flight, adhesive to create a reliquary, a top to impose limitation. I am out of new ideas, there are only old ones to be reconstituted, passed off as new. You'd be surprised by how this is soothing, someone great.