Saturday, March 22, 2008

Icicle and the Kid at Sarah's Place - March 28th

With patches of paper, sort of like similar patches of fog, the day has become what it will be. Sometimes a change can occur, but what would a day be if it always resembled the previous plate set before it? Does the day then forfeit its own unique identity? What would there be to be gained? Was the Rev. Johnny Icicle right with his hypothesis that it is truly the insistence placed upon bliss that drives this race? Enough with the questions and there may not be any definitive answers. No more so than the bird flies south because it happens to be warmer there than it is during the winter months. Warmer than what? They are instinctive. Instincts seem to apply at many levels and do not sustain a grilling with regard to scrutiny without a level of disdain. Fortune is a nomad without prejudice. The sun follows the moon in an effort to break the insomnia brightly infiltrating the path to breakfast. Go ahead. Clip out today’s skin of the weather forecast and match it with tomorrow’s. The discrepancy fails to be denied unless hanging ten on the surf. Ah, the beloved surf, with the waves furiously blistering out a tune to be mimicked by guitarists too many to be named. Life exists on an island. Seagulls are the perfect pet. They fly in and accept food and then go about their merry way. Mary Brown used to show weird movies in English class and those students will have memories of those flicks in the auditorium. The auditorium – a dark and peaceful place where tales would be told and stories would unfold. The cloudy skies outside left as sentries for the tide of events only the future pretended to know. And could it be short changed? Really. Compact discs have a shelf life too. Symbols. They even have their own screen. The end is near and the end is far and when you wish upon a star the machines take notice. Power is the driving force behind the administration of torque. While we are sleeping, if that is even ever possible anymore, that, that’s when a mighty thought might replace a permanent dwelling. Escape is possible. Like the devil, escape can be caught, but not kept. Fleeting might be a good word. There are many good words out there and that can probably be reduced to simply being a subjective process. Language. There are, as everybody is aware, the existence of hummingbirds dwelling within the lexicon of the air that surrounds this planet. It could be added that they do so with eloquent precision. Some men hum while they work as do some women, but the hum is not placed as a prefix. Imagine. Do not stop there and with little care the garden will grow. It just needs a little bit of weeding out from time to time. Time. There are timing devices known as watches and portions of time that are referred to as watches. Walls have been constructed to contain both space and time. Continue to pay attention to the details and remember to pay the gas attendant that left with the uniform given to identify the extinct species. Light a wick and wax can become poetic. Same goes for a stylus. The space here is growing limited, or was it that way in the first place? Elastic thought, man. Elastic thought. Let’s just get on with the show.

Sarah's Place
5223 Camp Bowie Blvd.
Ft. Worth Tx. 76107

817 - 731 - 7337


Blogger Phaedra999 said...

I am sorry I missed it. Bet it was jolly and smelled of Fort Worth and old and funny accents.

It is late here, and my friend's son is stalking about my home...insomniac. And all I want to to do is reminisce about Zero's, and all of you. Thanks so much for the memories. I so wanted to chat that I signed up for this dang deal...blogger whatever. I am and shall remain......still so 19th c. But Googling.

12:49 AM  
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6:34 AM  

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