(no subject)
i went down a cliff to a dam, but it was dry. and i sat and chewed a wad of bubblemint gum while scratching my head. i walked back up the cliff and my feet found their way to main street sandwich shop. i watched the volkswagen's and their kayak racks drive by, while i drank two lemonades.
as i walked out into the street light, the sunlight was burning. and i was walking sideways. and i realized i was far from home. and i convinced myself that i loved it.
later after sitting in a dry dam, i found myself a cup of colombian at the lincoln inn coffeeshop. the sign out front of the inn was calling the ladies walking by to ladies night every thursday, house drink specials, good music! but it didn't call me.
walking further down shemblain road i walked pass an expensive children's store called the toy express and i peered inside. confronting my reflection spun rainbow pinwheels and teddy bears dressed in firemen caps, and i wished i could walk inside and not be seen. i wanted to walk in like i had a bad haircut and hide shamefully behind a spinning sticker stand but i didnt want to risk it. and when i went to dinner, my fish and chips's vinegar made me full of sodium and my cheeks blew up. and i looked at my old lady dinner table neighbor and laughed. walking up to the lobster tank where the lobsters were laying with their beady eyes looking up and down and sideways, wanting to snap my wrist within in their claws, and myself just wanting to sit and watch each one dominate or turn to a comforting corner. passing by, a laundromat and bakery on the way home, painted across a store window stated 'now in progress' and it made me laugh. and i could'nt understand why. progress of what?
what is in progress right now?
i walked down bath house hallway and lit a clove cigarette. walking down the long hallway past stalls labeled 15 and 45, i listened to the pop songs playing from a youth dance, i smiled at the please no smoking signs, and turned out the lights. smoking, writing in a soft darkness of a vermont bathhouse, wishing for something but not really knowing what it may be. thinking maybe tomorrow i could tell. what i wished.
what was in progress. the dragonflies became angry and pounded the ceiling lights with their wings seeking a warmth, i turned on the lights, and attempted to catch the green dragonfly and carry him out into the night with me but failed. his progress was hopeless.
as i walked out into the street light, the sunlight was burning. and i was walking sideways. and i realized i was far from home. and i convinced myself that i loved it.
later after sitting in a dry dam, i found myself a cup of colombian at the lincoln inn coffeeshop. the sign out front of the inn was calling the ladies walking by to ladies night every thursday, house drink specials, good music! but it didn't call me.
walking further down shemblain road i walked pass an expensive children's store called the toy express and i peered inside. confronting my reflection spun rainbow pinwheels and teddy bears dressed in firemen caps, and i wished i could walk inside and not be seen. i wanted to walk in like i had a bad haircut and hide shamefully behind a spinning sticker stand but i didnt want to risk it. and when i went to dinner, my fish and chips's vinegar made me full of sodium and my cheeks blew up. and i looked at my old lady dinner table neighbor and laughed. walking up to the lobster tank where the lobsters were laying with their beady eyes looking up and down and sideways, wanting to snap my wrist within in their claws, and myself just wanting to sit and watch each one dominate or turn to a comforting corner. passing by, a laundromat and bakery on the way home, painted across a store window stated 'now in progress' and it made me laugh. and i could'nt understand why. progress of what?
what is in progress right now?
i walked down bath house hallway and lit a clove cigarette. walking down the long hallway past stalls labeled 15 and 45, i listened to the pop songs playing from a youth dance, i smiled at the please no smoking signs, and turned out the lights. smoking, writing in a soft darkness of a vermont bathhouse, wishing for something but not really knowing what it may be. thinking maybe tomorrow i could tell. what i wished.
what was in progress. the dragonflies became angry and pounded the ceiling lights with their wings seeking a warmth, i turned on the lights, and attempted to catch the green dragonfly and carry him out into the night with me but failed. his progress was hopeless.