Sunday, September 25, 2005

sluice...

mare's tails and mackerel scales. and finally the whole sky is glazed over. what is the weather? the right word is lacking. so we'll sum up with strange. strange it is.

appropriately dreams had me up all night. waking to the words i'd just spoken. again and over again. but i don't remember who or where or why. maybe monologuing. or narrating. i'm unsure.

the last week has seen cranberry juice become a food group. those lucky yanks and their gleaming red bogs.

mining and showing empty. sundays.

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