Friday, July 01, 2011


A tiny bird sits looking up at the cycle
next to a box finished in red baked
enamel with large lettering left by a
mourner. The accompanying folded
sheet is positioned in a reclining chair
about ten feet away from the model. Very
animistic. Women in another epoch
taken out of that down-cycle environment
would have remained awake with their
eyes closed indulging in wonted sorrow
despite the successful seduction. But why
is the phone on fire? Maybe was once
a wobbly table & four chairs gifted by
an aunt. Now a temporary mirror
that matches her well-chosen outfit
perfectly. He treated her like a normal
human being. This does not indicate a
relationship. Merely an obscure awareness
of the quiet, dark shades, the stone under
foot, the master of unfinished business.


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