A ghost of a room, layers and layers of previous tries submit silently to one more sloppy cover-up. All objects stand huddled in the center, witnesses to the crime scene, the blood of it dripping onto the one left out in the rain. A table. Makes sense. It�s had to bear the weight of everything else. Stains. And now, new paint. At least it gets a coat.
No one knows quite what to say about things. The birds do all right. They�re just loud, and everyone believes them. But even in them, there�s violence. And I have the evidence of violence, though it all amounts to gabbering. Irrelevance. None of it earns my trust. -PLRHM ----- Original Message ----- From: "Tay Arrow Sherman" Date: Wed, 1 Oct 2003 13:03:19 -0400 To: Subject: [X] Housepainting Distraction The room ghosts itself with sheets, though A single table still blossoms white dribbles And pliers fluffy with rust. In the midst of a bleachy graveyard, It trembles, old crooked oak Spattered with the white machination Of downhome transformation. At any moment it could rain, The ceiling puking sticky latex primer. It's all irrellevant. In the next room, I am a little birch-grey shaving. My activity: reading a speech by Larouche on 'Synarchism/Nazi-Communism' With an expression of bemused incredulity. Outside the birds are gabbering in a language Which they make by throwing chandeliers through windows. -Tay P.S. Somebody please rewrite this and email it back to me or to the list? -- __________________________________________________________ Sign-up for your own personalized E-mail at Mail.com http://www.mail.com/?sr=signup CareerBuilder.com has over 400,000 jobs. Be smarter about your job search http://corp.mail.com/careers _______________________________________________ Five7Five mailing list [EMAIL PROTECTED] http://www.pairlist.net/mailman/listinfo/five7five
