January 2005
3 posts
1 tag
Temporary Meaning
“Things sit around, decompose, get thrown out. This is what I think of the broken hoe and a blackened orange while neighbor’s hammer and grackles drop and stab into the watered lawn. Now, at this moment, the universe clicks into place, admits quite openly that all is pointless and gives temporary meaning to several philosophies. At what point I wonder, will it dawn on everyone?...
1 tag
The hands at eleven thirty-nine
When I roll over and inhale, the stuffy left side of my nose blends with the tune of the flute for a second and I can’t differentiate. With the radio’s tiny, alien yellow-green light covered up by the sweatshirt behind my pillow I get my eyes closed, and for a moment I lose consciousness, but quickly the violin pulls me back. We play this game.
A stray crumb of banana bread under...
1 tag
Compensation for a camera out of reach
As luck would have it, I’ve got a window seat in an aisle where carry-on luggage has to be stowed up top and not under my feet, so here I sit with views, and can’t reach my camera. I shall compensate:
I’m at 28,000 feet above the earth, somewhere over western New Mexico. Originally clear and cloudless, the sky has now turned partly cloudy underneath me, and bands of rain...