Thursday, December 29, 2005

olfactories and nufactories

Paint fumes and the chirping of female complaint psychedelicize the hallway sickeningly still. This morning I bought an air freshener on my way to work. Rushing to snag a decent parking spot at work, I grabbed quick from limited selection. Lavender and chamomile like the most fertile poppy field. Made from chemicals. I am a red-eye flight. A puff-faced woodland creature. A woman passed me in the hallway and left patchouli in my nose. Patchouli in a hospital! The audacity, the inconsideration, the gall! A trip down, hell and the women chirp. Coffee tastes painted, milk chocolate chemicality. A large red apple shiny and crisp by sight sits on the brink of rot on the file cabinet, days in and only looked at. I fear putting it in my mouth—it must be stuck with paint particles. Chirp, chirp. Chirp. Thank you, intelligent designer, for not making me a woman like those women chirping. Dramadalama. Noted: many of these women chirping about the paint wear perfume daily which makes my eyes tear when they pass my office. Some people pick and choose foes by flimsy currency.

A graveyard upside-down is a xanadu in dancing boots. Tomorrow I’m driving my crane to work to begin upheaval. The dead will live.

(That’s from a post that never got posted. Who was I that day? I do not know. Will repeat it until it makes sense. Or until it rhymes.)

Now for the news…

Moving towns like legos. I hate to sound like a writing teacher, but there are some delicious concrete details in this article. Not as tasty as Hopkins’s "The Windhover" but darn near.

Here’s to curing cancer, the anomalous genetic disease? Maybe.

Even out your breasts or lose your job (via Mr Anigans).


I’d rather read about this fine couple than "Bradgelina" or "TomKat". (I can’t believe I just typed that.) "Owen may have been attracted by Mzee's round shape and gray color that are somewhat similar to that of an adult hippopotamus." Plans to bring in another hippo are under way. I dare say I smell a sultry three-way. It smells like peach and warm chilies.

3 Comments:

Blogger Unknown said...

Season's greetings Sara.

May your New Year be a happy one and as untainted by urban chemical attrition as possible.

All the best,

Jon

9:41 PM  
Blogger {illyria} said...

it smells like 2006 has a sweet tooth. i'm bringing on the cinnamon spice and everything nice. happy new year's, sara.

7:38 AM  
Blogger Sara said...

good 2006 to you, Jonathan. i hope things are well.

hi transience--a sweet tooth for the new year. be well in it.

7:52 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home