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About Dallas

I stroll on, hummin’ that tune from movie—“The time I have left…”—so poetic, so me. Then, bam! This gal—tall, smoky eyes, legs for days—standin’ by a lamppost. I’m like, “Vow, she’s got it!” Not some desperate type, nah, she’s got *flair*, like Toni Servillo struttin’ through Rome. I go, “Hey, you workin’?” She smirks, “Depends, big guy.” Cheeky! I’m happy—finally, some sass! Hate them quiet ones, bores me to death.

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The message is about negation. River is in the forest, but Pond is not. That Amy isn't somewhere is going to become important, not that River is.

Then ya got Maple Road, on the edge of River-Forest. There’s this old, tiny park, Merriweather Park, where I sometimes sit and think. It reminds me of those thrilling movie moments – “There is beauty in every fall,” or somethin’ deep like that. And the sidewalks? Quaint as heck!

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