Ani owns my speakers

Cassette tapes were not the antiquated beasts that they are today when I was first introduced to the music of Ani Difranco in the mid-nineties. I had just started dating Addi and we were feverishly presenting one another with gifts, artifacts, poems, food, music; any beloved thing that helped to translate the tenderness and excitement we felt for each other. She offered me a tape that had a black and white picture of a woman on it with a shaved head, and a meditative expression around her eyes. I listened to it until the ribbon curled, snapped, and jammed itself into the entrails of my car stereo. It's hard to explain why I love Ani's music as much as I do. I guess the way she’s able to translate her experiences into art just makes sense to me. I tried to pick one song, but I couldn’t so I picked two.

Angel Food
If the mattress was a table top,
and the bed sheet was a page,
we'd be written out
like a couple of question marks,
my convex to your concave.
We'd be lying here
at the end of a sentence
that asks,
"are you ready now?
are you gonna glow in the dark?
are you gonna show me how?"

Do you like to watch when water misbehaves?
Do you like waves?
As the wind shifts,
and shifts again
the sail smiles
and gently slaps around the mast
ballast
ballast
ballast.

When you come to me,
come to me with cake in your pocket.
Come to me nicely
with that soft kinda cake
that's mostly icing.
Come to me ready and rude.
Bring me angel food,
angel food.

Studying Stones
i am out here studying stones
trying to learn to be less alive
using all of my will
to keep very still
still even on the inside.
i've cut all of the pertinent wires
so my eyes can't make that connection.
i am holding my breath
i am feigning my death
when i'm looking in your direction

Of course numb is an old hat
old as my oldest memories
see that one's my mother,
and that one's my father,
and that one in the hat, that's me.
It's a skill i'd hoped to abandon
when i got out on the open road,
but any more pent up emotion,
and i think i'm gonna explode.

There's never been an endeavor so strange
as trying to slow the blood in my veins.
To keep my face blank
as a stone that just sank
until not a ripple remains.
i am high above the tree line
sitting cross legged on the ground
when all of the forbidden fruit has fallen and rotted
that's when i'm gonna come down.

'course numb is an old hat
old as my oldest memories
see that one's my mother,
and that one's my father,
and that one in the hat, that's me.
It's a skill i'd hoped to abandon
when i got out on the open road,
but any more pent up emotion,
and i think i'm gonna explode.