Monday, August 09, 2004


weak in the knees: rounded the corner and the odor of sun-warmed wood floats in the darkness. dog-ear. clapboard. ship-lap. picket. paling. and somehow, a dive to the bottom, dividing the hot surface into deeper cool--- swim recalled.

phantom sunflowers pink the lot lines, half erect in lamplight, a stagger to sqaure. mammoth heads elicit that tremble---the neck nape, wired for contact.

tell me i have to leave. you can't hide here forever. certainly not. they worry i'll waste eternity. i worry i'll waste a moment. they are fierce optimists. if i had forever it would be wasted. but the leavetaking is on its way. today it is 1200 souls and a white horse parting the blue dust darkness. tomorrow 12000 and the machine row houses parting us. i can't hide forever. so sew it up in your trophy sash. lesson one: every heart gets broken. please mind the stitches. 


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