Wednesday, February 09, 2005

Events Occurring In A Sleepy February Spot

Somebody heavied the air. I am afternoon weight.

Ghosts are posting aged tables into documents stored on my hard drive. I did not write those documents. —Or so I thought.

The sleep technicians like the black & white photo. They say it over and over. The male thinks the bride is cute.

Salad is in the air. It keeps happening.

My hair is at once a tree and an animal climbing out of my head. There will be both a slaughtering and a logging. I am on the edge of my non-ergonomically correct seat.

There is nothing not perverse that can be said about a fellow installing a rod in a closet, particularly when he has left a mess that must be cleaned up.

Did I just nap with a lion and a dog? Oh no. The floor is blue.

I have, at the day’s end, opened the door.

4 Comments:

Blogger RuKsaK said...

Can't say I get all your words here, but like your flow - very pleasant read, truly.

11:07 PM  
Blogger Sara said...

Thanks much. Nice to see you here. I've become a fan of your word-turning.

8:18 AM  
Blogger Mr Anigans said...

strangely enough i do get some of the words here.

mmmm...salad....

7:54 PM  
Blogger Sara said...

Yes, salad. And Mark thinks we're perverts for what we've said about the closet. Really, it couldn't be helped.

8:54 AM  

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