MOUNT VERIER - ANNECY, FRANCE.
1. Stone. I expect lichen. I expect lichen, but this is a different trickle-- a slim round of dusky smooth globules pressed together, close beggars that press their seamlessness together like fiddleheads again in the need for kneading of fingertips despite the relentless solidity. 2. Milk. Pours whitecold and kitteny, stone washed in cream the granules prickling through my mammalian attempts-- to cultivate blotched gourds, buttery yellow in the softened residue of cream that crack with headaching hammers spitting thready pulp from slits and saucered seeds-- to grow cattails sidethrusted and sweetflag-- to sweep away this stony smoothness with rough cream. 3. Foliage. The curling in at night the small old dry, the you-will-be-me the learning. The creamy instruction to formulate valleys and spotted day lilies with snapping stems. Indistinction and naked hyacinth and when broken crumbling to the soft roll of hills. Not so craggy now not the granules and the shatter not the metamorphic pressing within, but darkening sap tongues of cats the beetle�s eyelash the everlasting green attack xylophones in juicy arcs. 4. Fauna Mammalia. Frogsplay in the fingers of the falling gravelly knees that preceed the hands in impact fever that presses in a thumb that grates half damp skin the sun of you the grey dry heat of you velcro fur floating beads in its mist that clung to us mouth first when we left the sticky river halfway up the mountainside those red wet welts in rose-soft skin where teeth come prickling, trickling in. _______________________________________________ Five7Five mailing list [EMAIL PROTECTED] http://www.pairlist.net/mailman/listinfo/five7five
