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the lazy-daisy chain of the week comes to a slow-spin downshift, come late sunday eve.
the week's ghosts haunt, many carry-over into the soon-to-come new week...
things will come, things will go...
you hope every week you will have good surprises... you hope the bad that does come, will pass quick...
for the moment, you enjoy the songs that play, the pet that lingers, the lover who smiles that certain way....
the week's ghosts haunt, many carry-over into the soon-to-come new week...
things will come, things will go...
you hope every week you will have good surprises... you hope the bad that does come, will pass quick...
for the moment, you enjoy the songs that play, the pet that lingers, the lover who smiles that certain way....
photographic, spirituaL moments
tranSitory fabrications beStow their seLf-sufficient vibratory viSuaL hiccups upon his once Lost souL predispositions. SNAP ! CLick ! eDit ! PoSt ! he aDVances hiS oLd-scHooL thoughts . . . one mentaL frame @ a time . . .
the smell of burnt nana bread @ 3am . . . .
lingering notes ricochet in my ears... some wee-hour mix
thoughts of the day's passages come and go, like a late-nite talk show's reception, when you are traveling in hilly terrain...
earlier, staring out strew-about items from a lifetime, splayed in the hard light of early Summer sun... strangers pick, ask, haggle
a part of u leaving with every item they buy...
old man takes old tv to the curb to donate to the pickers...
finally, ridding the huge contraption, that somehow still has a good picture
storm threatens... so he lugs it back on the porch... even in the letting go, he still wants to protect his fondness for an elect
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