Poor Form - "Boxed In"
Poor Form - "Sever"

In the city that summer it was hot. The businessmen in their suits downtown, the kids at the skate parks, the women on the synchronized swimming team, the old people in their homes. Everyone felt it and they all felt it together.

Throughout the heat wave Clarissa stayed at her post at the café counter, by the window looking out at the street. The café was in an old brick building and had tall ceilings that kept it a few degrees cooler than outside, but only a few. Not enough to justify her steady consumption of piping-hot espresso.

Clarissa was writing her book that summer. While the rest of her friends explored swimming holes or sucked up the air conditioning at the mall, she sat there alone, writing.

The café was run by an elderly woman. Sometimes when she spoke it seemed to Clarissa that she was speaking a different language, but then she realized that she was stressing different syllables. Sometimes Clarissa thought that the old woman might appear in her book, in a slightly different form, but she hadn't yet.

What was Clarissa's book about? She couldn't say. It took place in an old castle that was being encroached upon by suburbs. It both was and wasn't like the castle where she worked as a tour guide the summer before. There was a love affair, a fireworks display, a mysterious object that appeared in the lost and found--she didn't know how they all fit together yet.

"It's nice to see you writing. Always writing," the old woman told her and gave her a free croissant.
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[Poor Form are an incredible punk band from Vancouver. Their songs are gritty and full of heart. Their voices are wild and strong. / buy]