Tuesday, May 26, 2009
weeks of running then no more running
like the song says. no more running and then the lift of noise.
hush hush, you carnivores. my needless shaky plate is waiting. the holiday has passed and so all the rinds of melon rest in the trash. our mouths. our filled things and empty again.
ron silliman is setting up his camps still. i like everyone i don't like the most and me and you are the best of friends. the man shaking hands in the back of the room says in his highest pitched voice. it sounds like mice are climbing his walls.
is there a catalogue to order your return postage from? where we go. we go. quiet or full of sound. lift the noise and curve your back so it don't hurt. eventual, this running cease. this. see the hole in the cloud there, now we go through it.