Repetition

A repetition, a songsheet echo of the some distant Freshman Year event of stromboli and french fries.

Our lives are filled with campaigns, promises, and memories.



We echo are friends, our families.



We talk about handkerchiefs and elections and typographical errors and movie messages and newspaper headlines. We want success, victory. We talk about the weather, hope, and love.



Life is repetition. Life is an echo.



Life is an unwritten elegy. Life is filled with half-imagined eulogies for lost love, lost friends, lost keys. We allow ourselves to collect and save books, clothes, wine, art. We are required to remember Tippecanoe and the hypotenuse angle.

We seek understanding. We find another echo, another repetition.