Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Recycle poem one

"The dog is small but dense" someone says
In the garbage-bag, the dog
And the garbage-bag turns slightly and slides
As the security-guard removes his security-guard-radio from his security-guard-belt

Then there's a car and the car I'm in and another car and as I sit in the backseat with my head rested softly against the cold window, the car, the other car, and the car I'm in converge in slow-motion and from my seat which is firm and in which I'm firmly belted I map the car-paths of each car and mentally place myself in the point of car-path-convergence and imagine the moment from this point when all three cars meet

I think 'I'm a thing on this mattress' I stand

And each house has similar white paint and middle-aged people with the similar lives and jobs and the similar televisions and microwaves and each person in each house has goals and motivations and thoughts and desires

So I imagine things I desire lined up in the hallway of an old white house or sitting softly in my closed hand, but when I open my hand I don't know what these things are and my hands and the hallway are empty and old or something

"I'm sorry"

I say

"There's no snow and anyway I don't ever want to see you again. I'm moving and I don't have time for you anymore. It's not your fault. I became evil and something happened and there was this parking-lot. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm going for a walk for a while and I won't see you on this walk or see you ever again and I'll move when you're somewhere else and wherever you walk I'll walk perpendicular from there and become invisible, okay"

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