Sunday, May 29, 2005


should have had the camera. but as soon as the thought occurs the puddles are already drying. perfect light vanishing. less than a minute. gone. how many times has the thought occurred?

if all day and all days you're sorting to the bottom pinching off chaff shelling husking where does it go? he meanwhile is filling his pockets. shuffling barnacle. adhesive. encrusted. and at the end of one day you lay down and fall asleep marveling at one almond. then he unloads. but you're sleeping. unastonished. he leans over your ear and tells you you're an idiot. and busts out his lantern to cast his moving shadows. the shadows taste like almonds.

counting backwards from 4. one is asleep. so much untouchable from any outside. not off so easy though. after absorbing soluble impressions. soaked through and ringing. old old faithful.



Blogger Allolex said...

I figure it's only fair to inform you that you've been tagged in the musical baton game. I'll forgive you if you gracefully decline to participate...

7:04 AM  
Blogger headur said...

dreaming- lovely piece, Lady! you're a writer!

5:09 AM  

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