January 2009
4 posts
time doesnt wait for us
sitting on the bus, the dirty stinky bus, watching the old fraser graveyard wash out of view . . i notice out the window a young blond dreadlocked waving goodbye to whomever has stepped on the bus. As she walks away she come closer to me, i quickly appraise her outfit, funky denim, scuffed just right. Young and cool, where is she wandering, where has she come from? Quickly i focus my gaze back to...
surround
surrounding me,
a bubble of thoughts ,
split specimens, stained for retrieval.
the mysteries of the journey,
mysteries of the ages,
plasticized and electronized
and revealing,
like pieces of laundry falling
from the back of bicycle,
all the secrets that evolution
thought its prize.
I think upon the clouds of jupiter
with billowing storms of gases
revelling in their movement,
I wonder...
