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so, nothing suprises you, huh?

BeinGeneric

Bluelighter
Joined
Jul 6, 2002
Messages
45
Location
usa
crush...hand in hand
mend wedding ring.
grand...accompany me along
the asphalt drive.
colonial postruring oppressed
page after page.
Oh, suare presence, Pen and Penetance,
you begged me not to judge you
when you ran down that old woman
in the Dodge Dart that her husband
kept running through 48 Ohio winters.
Blue sunshine and sleet,
insects in my bed.
Lame from loss of virginity.
I tried to make Marys nose less obvious by offering her oral sex.
I possess cognizance: (kog'ni-zens, kon'i-), n.
1. knowledge, esp. through perception or reason. 2. notice or acknowledgment. -cog'ni-zant, adj.
I can't believe I spent the time writing down the definition to cognizance.
Now that I've "Warmed Up", (THOSE MUSICIANS THAT FIND IT NECISSARY TO "WARM UP" WITH TOODWIND INSTRUMENTS MUST DO SO IN THE BATHROOM) with soft, midwestern, white and flakey words, I can let ugly thump in my veins.
Oh God. GOD! Good. I'll start writing about beauty. Easy enough.
Shoelaces. I tie shoelaces through
glass breakfast tables. Grey faced.
Pence scattered like dandilions.
Sweep through serenity, I am terr-
ified. Holy fuck. Random. Selected.
Through a gap between two heads
I see the mother Mary
being dogged by a bee
Happily
she placed her hand upon my head
and said
"The good Lord makes a path for you.
I shall help you fing it."
We stood.
 
Holding olive branches and hot coals
No, nothing surprises me. A fight club philosophy still rules my life, a buddhism without compassion. I secretly admire the saboteurs and each night before bed I pray the stock market will crash. I am as interested in the facts as anyone, the science and structure behind beauty. If only to gain the knoweldge necessary to alter and adulter it's fundamental componets, bring the whole thing tumbling in on itself. An action which I guess possesses a type of beauty all its own.
During my freshman year of high school, I had no real friends. I spent most days skipping class and hiding out in the library, which I always considered to be to well lit. So one of those days was the last time, the last time I remember feeling surprised.
Mrs. Greenfield, the head librarian was a friend of my mother.
She was a thin woman, in her early fifties. She wore those thin framed, pointy reading glasses that usually hung around her neck on a corroded chain turning the skin it touched from grey to green. Each time I walked to the counter with a stack of books, she would lift the glasses from her chest. She would unfold the arms with the same hand, set them on the bridge of her nose. She repeated that same ritual on this day, after reinserting a manila index card into a manila envelope, one of which was glued to the inside back cover of every book in the library. Her eyes both sharpened and distorted by scratched glass lenses, narrowed into slits, as if peering into my soul and not at all pleased by what they saw peering back.
I checked out books on the Haymarket Square riots, the Watts riots, and Huwey Newton. She despised me because of my appetite for the particular brand of beauty lent by such books. She possibly thought I should have been reading Steinbeck and possessed enough foresight to hide the only copy of Catcher in the Rye between to Ann Rand novels knowing that if I ever found it, I would never return it.
I pulled the little index cards from the backs of each book to sign them. She asked me how my mother was, though I never answered because I was struck mute by beautiful fact. Since 1979 these three books had been checked out of the library only one time, by the same person, and all three on the same day a few months more than one year ago.
Leroy A Eellman Leroy A Eellman Leroy A Eellman
I was surprised. I was surprised that I was not alone, and I found Leroy that same day in the facualty parking lot. He was letting all the air out of the tires of Mrs. Greenfeild's Volvo, a fact which didn't surprise me a bit.
[ 24 July 2002: Message edited by: vocab ]
 
ok,, my curiosity has been percolating, blub blub. have I ever met you fathom76, and if not, when shall we? I can drive, i got a lisence to do it.
 
No, vocab. You ARE indeed the White Rabbit, and you have the candy to prove it. (not to mention the fact that I only catch a glimpse of you from behind fast shutting doors)
 
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