Day 2
Something cleaned off the sweet nectar of sleep off the floor. Something's got to live. It shows a vivid awareness of life. I wonder if it's Presbyterian or Catholic?
They painted the walls grey, the jagged outlines of age with petals of red. Maybe I should have bought the flowers myself, for the previous owner have my work cut out for me. Light poured through the window high above, with it touching the stained door forming a parallelogram. It feels hot to the touch. I placed my cheek upon the wooden door, kissing the warmth cheek to cheek.
I ran when the light diffused to pale. 240 rounds. I ran with my shadow. He is never tired. I admire his spirit. It seems boundless. He is telling me the winning numbers to the Toto. I laugh. He tells me the way to another girl's paradise lies on a road where not far from here. I laugh some more. Perhaps I'm crazy, I need to go to Norway. Maybe Leif will listen: Driving in my Camper, on my way to Norway. In the backseat, I have Ashkenazy, Horowitz, Lugansky and Pletnev. And we'll go see those damn fjords.
They painted the walls grey, the jagged outlines of age with petals of red. Maybe I should have bought the flowers myself, for the previous owner have my work cut out for me. Light poured through the window high above, with it touching the stained door forming a parallelogram. It feels hot to the touch. I placed my cheek upon the wooden door, kissing the warmth cheek to cheek.
I ran when the light diffused to pale. 240 rounds. I ran with my shadow. He is never tired. I admire his spirit. It seems boundless. He is telling me the winning numbers to the Toto. I laugh. He tells me the way to another girl's paradise lies on a road where not far from here. I laugh some more. Perhaps I'm crazy, I need to go to Norway. Maybe Leif will listen: Driving in my Camper, on my way to Norway. In the backseat, I have Ashkenazy, Horowitz, Lugansky and Pletnev. And we'll go see those damn fjords.
posted by Mengyang at 7:25 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home