When standing in a garden of profundity
everything loses it's meaning...
and when stopping
to smell the
chromatic wisdoms
you are lost in the
overwhelming field
of academic poppies
causing you drift to sleep.
Alone and snoring.
Caught in the overflow of
delusions and allusions
and exclusions and illusions.
Transfusions of the bloodless
inability to translate what is gone.
Words elude you.
Friday, May 28, 2010
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Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
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RICK: Hey Rick? DICK: Yea, Dick? RICK: See that sky roll on by? (points) DICK: ...Oh, my... RICK: Don't i-t'almost makes yer wanner....
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there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
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Another Indian woman living on our block has hair swept back and braided has jeweled toes, is in all yellow traditional regalia, and walks w...
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hunger is sometimes preferable to loneliness. a stomach will twist- but hands become dirty and heavy when full of coins.
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In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but...
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motionless sap. ogling your shadow, you have much thinking to do. has the potassium kicked you in the arse yet-and got you going? you a...
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lean in a little. say it like it's a secret. make your breath sound like italics. click your tongue against the roof your mouth then you...
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strange tree, your flowers look like badminton birdies.
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I was just awarded the Stylish Blogger Award! (awarded by John Evans ) I was asked to write 7 things about myself,and to award 10 ot...
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sex object. not afraid of the words. I've used many objects for the sake of sex. in fact my body has been pretty disposable- I don't...
You are a garden of profundity.
ReplyDeleteThree cheers for Noam Chomsky!
lol, jk...
aw, I'm Noam Chomsky!?! ;)
ReplyDelete