I have a complicated relationship with “Peach Scone” by Hobo Johnson & the LoveMakers. I related too much with the poem, which is why I love it. But I also hate why I relate to it.
A friend of mine – the very same friend from yesterday’s post – introduced me to the poem – is it considered a poem? Much like Johnson, I don’t care about rules, so it’s a poem. She sent it to me wishing – you guessed it – that she wished she could find someone who loved her like the narrator. Except, it’s not love. Even Hobo Johnson recognizes it in his chorus: “And I love the thought of being with you/Or maybe it’s the thought of not being so alone.”
This is, of course, is a topic for another day. Maybe one I’ll be comfortable to share. We’ll see.
Whatever your relationship with this poem is, please enjoy.