Wednesday, August 13, 2008

pause, flip, repeat

a flooded field of insignificance as informed by senses well formed by screens and old fashioned ism's.   a race to fill the cup, walk faster, dump into a waiting cup on the other side of a line drawn in the sand,  the dog days are treating me well, employment eggs the clock on, to come forward, show itself, give a new sense of newness to the passing minutes and appreciation to the slowly wilting leaves of neglected trees.  a telling silence fills the nights, listening hard, one can hear the morning coming.  of course, sonically decadent nights in a basement have left me not hearing so well, and my eyes can't fill fast enough..........

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