Some prayed for rain.
A silent savagery, the repetition of days on end, red days, sun.
Tomorrow's opportunity, the scrubbing of insects alive and dead from glass to create an invisibility, I like that you might add, the creation of nothing.
Later the gift of the sun would allow smoke swirl from my tongue.
I would not tell you that.
I could find another word--wisp--from a book or quicker, faster, toward nothing, if I should consult the internet; watch how I tell you things on the internet.
Fires surround mountain peaks, prevailing ash, fire specks littered wind eastward from the mountains.
Even here in the Rust Belt, smoke gets in your eyes, a speck in your eye, as the train leaves.
Anonymous, the general public carrying a strapped black computer case, would find my words on the internet at Starbucks, near 20 oz earth hued porcelain mugs, clean and empty as last minute gifts.
Diane would appear freshly French-kissed half the night and all morning, "Hey watch the L Y words," she stated.
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Sirenita Lake
Just Thinking...
ThroughMyEyes
Ute Sonnenberg
Steven Bridenbaugh
Marilyn Sands
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Comments
"There's next to no association in any of the context," I added formlessly.
"Vapid," she interjected.
I am usually egoically necessitated to project the vapidity
of my interlocutor. Yet she often picks up on this
pathetic attempt to please her. There is
a standoff.
A poem with longer sentences.
Enjoyed very much JP.
There's more protein in the above comments than a hectare of soy.
~jmac ~ I quietly now include wisp in sentence #5
~Damon~ I must tweet. Maybe you should have befriended a falcon? That's a neat gig for daughter--close to Manhattan Beach--my guess is that she avoids St. Paul's Winter Carnival--does she read OSalon? Might be a good venue to work on CA Dreamer--though writing in public makes everyone self-conscious. Was it Ralph Ellison that wrote in a store window? If I get the long-awaited 'good news' from my agent my wife and I are planning on Tahiti -- likely plane change in San Diego. Of course, I'd planned on the London Olympics when it was first announced and well, here I am sipping a Fanta orange and polishing off a $1.04 Traditional BK chicken sandwich after having spent the better part of July 1st trying to repair our deck umbrella. It is a wonderfully faded, otherwise ultra-sturdy umbrella that snapped in half late autumn. Today I found some of that new molecular glue that had experienced its share of freeze/thaw cycles. The glue was well hidden, forgotten in one of those miscellaneous boxes in the garage. So I've glued and spliced the umbrella shaft, clamping it with what I construe as surgical precision, finally letting it set now in the vice. My plan is to affix opposing screws, wrap wire around the split, duct tape it and then encase the break camouflaging it with twine. If I get it right, what the hell, one less suburban artifact for the dump, and a tad of walking around money. Starbucks cash. Careful as I was, of course, some of the new-age glue squished on my left pinkie ... and then a fingerprint-size rip of shop towel fused to it and over the wound I've stuck one of those circular bandages. So my diligent reply may not be up to authorial standards. Besides, if I keep typing at the moment it'll soon be too dark to worry about the umbrella.
Or the way things might have been.
~James~Who says sentences require oxygen?
~Rita~You are delicate, eloquent, brilliant. TY
~Catch Twenty-Two~ Thanks for the moment. Now it is after dark:
Nearby there'll be fireworks, in their smoke: bright reflections night water and then they'll vanish like soldiers...
or something.
A small bird on the sidewalk as the tip off.
r