on_the_radio bijou on the walk home a man on his stoop said something indistinguishable to me in spanish in a low voice. i kept walking he’s got his earphones on a different song than me. i’m listening on the train, mouthing the words tapping my fingers and my feet but nobody else can hear it. we’re all set to a different frequency sometimes it looks like someone else hears the same rhythm as you but it’s just a coincidence. sometimes we forget and we say aloud the things we’re supposed to keep in our heads and everyone turns and looks or just pretends not to notice because they’ve heard it all before. 050805 ... z selector 050806 what's it to you? who go blather from