these fragments pieced together to form a humanity
the miles of empty road. the dust.
hot sunshine on the back of a neck.
a hat with string attached shading eyes.
brown grass rustling.
a river that has been lined to become a canal.
water that is too brown to be clean, too transparent to be dismissed.
beside the artifice, a real pond with drowned grass and reeds, ragged edges. From the tall blades, a splash of some large creature.
the slick sound of skin lotion ( i know you are there).
meeting a stranger at the junction of two paths. We acknowledge and ignore each other.
parched hot wind. the look of disappointment on my face.
craned necks. things out of reach or lost.
between times, and time again, we make a story out of our lives, a narrative with our feelings and images. We inject a continuity into the arbitrary, a randomness into the routine. My heart is indeed an open book, pages waiting to be filled and drawn in, to be told and most importantly, to be read by another. "these fragments i have shored up against my ruins. "
hot sunshine on the back of a neck.
a hat with string attached shading eyes.
brown grass rustling.
a river that has been lined to become a canal.
water that is too brown to be clean, too transparent to be dismissed.
beside the artifice, a real pond with drowned grass and reeds, ragged edges. From the tall blades, a splash of some large creature.
the slick sound of skin lotion ( i know you are there).
meeting a stranger at the junction of two paths. We acknowledge and ignore each other.
parched hot wind. the look of disappointment on my face.
craned necks. things out of reach or lost.
between times, and time again, we make a story out of our lives, a narrative with our feelings and images. We inject a continuity into the arbitrary, a randomness into the routine. My heart is indeed an open book, pages waiting to be filled and drawn in, to be told and most importantly, to be read by another. "these fragments i have shored up against my ruins. "
posted by pure at
8:47:00 PM
1 Comments:
World climate during the early Cretaceous era was warm and moist, very similar to that of the tropics today. There were wet and dry seasons rather than summer and winter.
Sue wanders in and out of this era frequently since its hot sunshine allows her to travel naked. Sue likes being naked, with her leather knapsack on her back and her vietnamese hat shading her eyes. She writes short stories on postcards. "Some slick sunshine lotion, please. The tip of my tail is getting burnt."
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Anonymous, at Monday, March 28, 2005 3:06:00 PM
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