View Full Version : Blather
nycwriters
08-13-2003, 04:35 AM
Rules: incongruent sentences added that have no direct linear structure to the sentence previous. Add as many as you see fit. Chaos has reason.
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Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something.
AllegroNg
08-13-2003, 08:24 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me.
petitesoeur
08-13-2003, 10:26 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze.
zefrank
08-13-2003, 01:21 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning.
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ?
amanda
08-13-2003, 10:08 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
nycwriters
08-13-2003, 11:32 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it.
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true.
malina
08-14-2003, 01:14 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
trisherina
08-14-2003, 01:55 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes.
amanda
08-14-2003, 08:54 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
malina
08-15-2003, 08:59 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened.
nycwriters
08-16-2003, 06:13 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end.
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
nycwriters
08-17-2003, 02:06 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back.
petitesoeur
08-17-2003, 03:48 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
trisherina
08-17-2003, 12:37 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out.
nycwriters
08-17-2003, 02:37 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing.
amanda
08-17-2003, 09:33 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw.
malina
08-18-2003, 05:32 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
nycwriters
08-18-2003, 07:35 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received.
petitesoeur
08-19-2003, 09:56 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
malina
08-19-2003, 10:01 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
nycwriters
08-21-2003, 08:17 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water.
petitesoeur
08-22-2003, 07:52 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
malina
08-22-2003, 10:47 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
rapscalious rob
08-23-2003, 07:56 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
trisherina
08-23-2003, 12:06 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me.
rapscalious rob
08-24-2003, 06:06 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
malina
08-24-2003, 10:03 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance.
rapscalious rob
08-24-2003, 04:04 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat.
funkytuba
08-27-2003, 04:07 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
nycwriters
08-27-2003, 03:17 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me.
malina
08-27-2003, 10:28 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
nycwriters
08-27-2003, 10:35 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Audreyvgs
09-02-2003, 11:42 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
malina
09-02-2003, 09:42 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat.
funkytuba
09-02-2003, 09:49 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat.
Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
rapscalious rob
09-03-2003, 12:12 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
funkytuba
09-03-2003, 03:46 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
malina
09-03-2003, 05:05 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
nycwriters
09-03-2003, 05:42 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again.
funkytuba
09-03-2003, 09:48 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape."
rapscalious rob
09-03-2003, 11:47 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
funkytuba
09-05-2003, 06:41 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
rapscalious rob
09-06-2003, 05:47 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
nycwriters
09-07-2003, 06:32 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
Four forward, sixteen back. I was making progress. Clippings, Texas, the Stardust lounge, me, you. The equivalent of chaos.
malina
09-08-2003, 01:17 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
Four forward, sixteen back. I was making progress. Clippings, Texas, the Stardust lounge, me, you. The equivalent of chaos.
We could never be sure. We would never know! Dang it mom had been right again. She could still get to me.
funkytuba
09-09-2003, 02:36 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
Four forward, sixteen back. I was making progress. Clippings, Texas, the Stardust lounge, me, you. The equivalent of chaos.
We could never be sure. We would never know! Dang it mom had been right again. She could still get to me.
Bubble wrap protected the antique creamer creating an odd symbiotic juxtaposition of old and new. He leaves his copy of Gray's anatomy in the apartment as he moves out. Underneath it all, vanilla still reigns as the supreme flavor, though cumin runs a close second.
malina
09-10-2003, 08:29 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
Four forward, sixteen back. I was making progress. Clippings, Texas, the Stardust lounge, me, you. The equivalent of chaos.
We could never be sure. We would never know! Dang it mom had been right again. She could still get to me.
Bubble wrap protected the antique creamer creating an odd symbiotic juxtaposition of old and new. He leaves his copy of Gray's anatomy in the apartment as he moves out. Underneath it all, vanilla still reigns as the supreme flavor, though cumin runs a close second.
Careful probing and dusting revealed nothing. She flexed her hand inside the latex glove - I could see the effort was beginning to wear her out. A fine line became visible in the corner of her left eye. Only I could discern it. She had confided in no one else. I had learned to read all the signs. It made me sad.
nycwriters
09-12-2003, 03:28 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
Four forward, sixteen back. I was making progress. Clippings, Texas, the Stardust lounge, me, you. The equivalent of chaos.
We could never be sure. We would never know! Dang it mom had been right again. She could still get to me.
Bubble wrap protected the antique creamer creating an odd symbiotic juxtaposition of old and new. He leaves his copy of Gray's anatomy in the apartment as he moves out. Underneath it all, vanilla still reigns as the supreme flavor, though cumin runs a close second.
Careful probing and dusting revealed nothing. She flexed her hand inside the latex glove - I could see the effort was beginning to wear her out. A fine line became visible in the corner of her left eye. Only I could discern it. She had confided in no one else. I had learned to read all the signs. It made me sad.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. Then it happened. Two steps forward and sixteen back, swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. It was no longer tranquil.
LouisFriend
09-14-2003, 12:09 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
Four forward, sixteen back. I was making progress. Clippings, Texas, the Stardust lounge, me, you. The equivalent of chaos.
We could never be sure. We would never know! Dang it mom had been right again. She could still get to me.
Bubble wrap protected the antique creamer creating an odd symbiotic juxtaposition of old and new. He leaves his copy of Gray's anatomy in the apartment as he moves out. Underneath it all, vanilla still reigns as the supreme flavor, though cumin runs a close second.
Careful probing and dusting revealed nothing. She flexed her hand inside the latex glove - I could see the effort was beginning to wear her out. A fine line became visible in the corner of her left eye. Only I could discern it. She had confided in no one else. I had learned to read all the signs. It made me sad.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. Then it happened. Two steps forward and sixteen back, swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. It was no longer tranquil. The burn on my flesh was searing, scorching, hell to the mind of a calm, considerate pawn of life's cruel joke that puts us in harm's way and dictates the meaning of the axiom, "Life is but a dream, the nightmares comparative with the death of a mockingbird."
funkytuba
09-15-2003, 06:39 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
Four forward, sixteen back. I was making progress. Clippings, Texas, the Stardust lounge, me, you. The equivalent of chaos.
We could never be sure. We would never know! Dang it mom had been right again. She could still get to me.
Bubble wrap protected the antique creamer creating an odd symbiotic juxtaposition of old and new. He leaves his copy of Gray's anatomy in the apartment as he moves out. Underneath it all, vanilla still reigns as the supreme flavor, though cumin runs a close second.
Careful probing and dusting revealed nothing. She flexed her hand inside the latex glove - I could see the effort was beginning to wear her out. A fine line became visible in the corner of her left eye. Only I could discern it. She had confided in no one else. I had learned to read all the signs. It made me sad.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. Then it happened. Two steps forward and sixteen back, swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. It was no longer tranquil. The burn on my flesh was searing, scorching, hell to the mind of a calm, considerate pawn of life's cruel joke that puts us in harm's way and dictates the meaning of the axiom, "Life is but a dream, the nightmares comparative with the death of a mockingbird."
This is nothing! Her eyes glued to the monitor, she absentmindedly felt over for her coffee cup and brought it to her lips, spewing all over her keyboard as her brain processed last week's cool greasy former latte going into her mouth.
nycwriters
09-18-2003, 01:44 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
Four forward, sixteen back. I was making progress. Clippings, Texas, the Stardust lounge, me, you. The equivalent of chaos.
We could never be sure. We would never know! Dang it mom had been right again. She could still get to me.
Bubble wrap protected the antique creamer creating an odd symbiotic juxtaposition of old and new. He leaves his copy of Gray's anatomy in the apartment as he moves out. Underneath it all, vanilla still reigns as the supreme flavor, though cumin runs a close second.
Careful probing and dusting revealed nothing. She flexed her hand inside the latex glove - I could see the effort was beginning to wear her out. A fine line became visible in the corner of her left eye. Only I could discern it. She had confided in no one else. I had learned to read all the signs. It made me sad.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. Then it happened. Two steps forward and sixteen back, swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. It was no longer tranquil. The burn on my flesh was searing, scorching, hell to the mind of a calm, considerate pawn of life's cruel joke that puts us in harm's way and dictates the meaning of the axiom, "Life is but a dream, the nightmares comparative with the death of a mockingbird."
This is nothing! Her eyes glued to the monitor, she absentmindedly felt over for her coffee cup and brought it to her lips, spewing all over her keyboard as her brain processed last week's cool greasy former latte going into her mouth.
It was all relative. A strange symphony of words forming rhythm, breathing life into the seemingly random.
malina
09-22-2003, 07:54 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
Four forward, sixteen back. I was making progress. Clippings, Texas, the Stardust lounge, me, you. The equivalent of chaos.
We could never be sure. We would never know! Dang it mom had been right again. She could still get to me.
Bubble wrap protected the antique creamer creating an odd symbiotic juxtaposition of old and new. He leaves his copy of Gray's anatomy in the apartment as he moves out. Underneath it all, vanilla still reigns as the supreme flavor, though cumin runs a close second.
Careful probing and dusting revealed nothing. She flexed her hand inside the latex glove - I could see the effort was beginning to wear her out. A fine line became visible in the corner of her left eye. Only I could discern it. She had confided in no one else. I had learned to read all the signs. It made me sad.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. Then it happened. Two steps forward and sixteen back, swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. It was no longer tranquil. The burn on my flesh was searing, scorching, hell to the mind of a calm, considerate pawn of life's cruel joke that puts us in harm's way and dictates the meaning of the axiom, "Life is but a dream, the nightmares comparative with the death of a mockingbird."
This is nothing! Her eyes glued to the monitor, she absentmindedly felt over for her coffee cup and brought it to her lips, spewing all over her keyboard as her brain processed last week's cool greasy former latte going into her mouth.
It was all relative. A strange symphony of words forming rhythm, breathing life into the seemingly random.
The penguin clumsily made his way across the ice, its surface glistening in the morning sun. The sky was an intense shade of blue, the kind that makes you so happy you want to run and never stop.
maychorian
10-18-2003, 01:22 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
Four forward, sixteen back. I was making progress. Clippings, Texas, the Stardust lounge, me, you. The equivalent of chaos.
We could never be sure. We would never know! Dang it mom had been right again. She could still get to me.
Bubble wrap protected the antique creamer creating an odd symbiotic juxtaposition of old and new. He leaves his copy of Gray's anatomy in the apartment as he moves out. Underneath it all, vanilla still reigns as the supreme flavor, though cumin runs a close second.
Careful probing and dusting revealed nothing. She flexed her hand inside the latex glove - I could see the effort was beginning to wear her out. A fine line became visible in the corner of her left eye. Only I could discern it. She had confided in no one else. I had learned to read all the signs. It made me sad.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. Then it happened. Two steps forward and sixteen back, swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. It was no longer tranquil. The burn on my flesh was searing, scorching, hell to the mind of a calm, considerate pawn of life's cruel joke that puts us in harm's way and dictates the meaning of the axiom, "Life is but a dream, the nightmares comparative with the death of a mockingbird."
This is nothing! Her eyes glued to the monitor, she absentmindedly felt over for her coffee cup and brought it to her lips, spewing all over her keyboard as her brain processed last week's cool greasy former latte going into her mouth.
It was all relative. A strange symphony of words forming rhythm, breathing life into the seemingly random.
The penguin clumsily made his way across the ice, its surface glistening in the morning sun. The sky was an intense shade of blue, the kind that makes you so happy you want to run and never stop. A naughty penguin pushed the other into a hole in the ice, and the orangutans howled their angry joy, beating at the plaster trees and rubber vines in their pretty zoo cage, orange-furred arms waving like flags of cottonballs in a subtle breeze.
Klynne
10-26-2003, 12:53 AM
Originally posted by maychorian
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
Four forward, sixteen back. I was making progress. Clippings, Texas, the Stardust lounge, me, you. The equivalent of chaos.
We could never be sure. We would never know! Dang it mom had been right again. She could still get to me.
Bubble wrap protected the antique creamer creating an odd symbiotic juxtaposition of old and new. He leaves his copy of Gray's anatomy in the apartment as he moves out. Underneath it all, vanilla still reigns as the supreme flavor, though cumin runs a close second.
Careful probing and dusting revealed nothing. She flexed her hand inside the latex glove - I could see the effort was beginning to wear her out. A fine line became visible in the corner of her left eye. Only I could discern it. She had confided in no one else. I had learned to read all the signs. It made me sad.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. Then it happened. Two steps forward and sixteen back, swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. It was no longer tranquil. The burn on my flesh was searing, scorching, hell to the mind of a calm, considerate pawn of life's cruel joke that puts us in harm's way and dictates the meaning of the axiom, "Life is but a dream, the nightmares comparative with the death of a mockingbird."
This is nothing! Her eyes glued to the monitor, she absentmindedly felt over for her coffee cup and brought it to her lips, spewing all over her keyboard as her brain processed last week's cool greasy former latte going into her mouth.
It was all relative. A strange symphony of words forming rhythm, breathing life into the seemingly random.
The penguin clumsily made his way across the ice, its surface glistening in the morning sun. The sky was an intense shade of blue, the kind that makes you so happy you want to run and never stop. A naughty penguin pushed the other into a hole in the ice, and the orangutans howled their angry joy, beating at the plaster trees and rubber vines in their pretty zoo cage, orange-furred arms waving like flags of cottonballs in a subtle breeze.
I purchased bananas, oranges and apples. I offered the orangatang a banana, he shook his head angerly and gave me the raspberry. "THPPPTTT". I dropped the banana into his cage. He pointed at the orange which I gave to him. He ate it greedily.
malina
10-26-2003, 02:57 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
Four forward, sixteen back. I was making progress. Clippings, Texas, the Stardust lounge, me, you. The equivalent of chaos.
We could never be sure. We would never know! Dang it mom had been right again. She could still get to me.
Bubble wrap protected the antique creamer creating an odd symbiotic juxtaposition of old and new. He leaves his copy of Gray's anatomy in the apartment as he moves out. Underneath it all, vanilla still reigns as the supreme flavor, though cumin runs a close second.
Careful probing and dusting revealed nothing. She flexed her hand inside the latex glove - I could see the effort was beginning to wear her out. A fine line became visible in the corner of her left eye. Only I could discern it. She had confided in no one else. I had learned to read all the signs. It made me sad.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. Then it happened. Two steps forward and sixteen back, swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. It was no longer tranquil. The burn on my flesh was searing, scorching, hell to the mind of a calm, considerate pawn of life's cruel joke that puts us in harm's way and dictates the meaning of the axiom, "Life is but a dream, the nightmares comparative with the death of a mockingbird."
This is nothing! Her eyes glued to the monitor, she absentmindedly felt over for her coffee cup and brought it to her lips, spewing all over her keyboard as her brain processed last week's cool greasy former latte going into her mouth.
It was all relative. A strange symphony of words forming rhythm, breathing life into the seemingly random.
The penguin clumsily made his way across the ice, its surface glistening in the morning sun. The sky was an intense shade of blue, the kind that makes you so happy you want to run and never stop. A naughty penguin pushed the other into a hole in the ice, and the orangutans howled their angry joy, beating at the plaster trees and rubber vines in their pretty zoo cage, orange-furred arms waving like flags of cottonballs in a subtle breeze.
I purchased bananas, oranges and apples. I offered the orangatang a banana, he shook his head angerly and gave me the raspberry. "THPPPTTT". I dropped the banana into his cage. He pointed at the orange which I gave to him. He ate it greedily.
Ah the mountains... majestic and imposing. How did I get here?
funkytuba
10-28-2003, 09:31 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
Four forward, sixteen back. I was making progress. Clippings, Texas, the Stardust lounge, me, you. The equivalent of chaos.
We could never be sure. We would never know! Dang it mom had been right again. She could still get to me.
Bubble wrap protected the antique creamer creating an odd symbiotic juxtaposition of old and new. He leaves his copy of Gray's anatomy in the apartment as he moves out. Underneath it all, vanilla still reigns as the supreme flavor, though cumin runs a close second.
Careful probing and dusting revealed nothing. She flexed her hand inside the latex glove - I could see the effort was beginning to wear her out. A fine line became visible in the corner of her left eye. Only I could discern it. She had confided in no one else. I had learned to read all the signs. It made me sad.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. Then it happened. Two steps forward and sixteen back, swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. It was no longer tranquil. The burn on my flesh was searing, scorching, hell to the mind of a calm, considerate pawn of life's cruel joke that puts us in harm's way and dictates the meaning of the axiom, "Life is but a dream, the nightmares comparative with the death of a mockingbird."
This is nothing! Her eyes glued to the monitor, she absentmindedly felt over for her coffee cup and brought it to her lips, spewing all over her keyboard as her brain processed last week's cool greasy former latte going into her mouth.
It was all relative. A strange symphony of words forming rhythm, breathing life into the seemingly random.
The penguin clumsily made his way across the ice, its surface glistening in the morning sun. The sky was an intense shade of blue, the kind that makes you so happy you want to run and never stop. A naughty penguin pushed the other into a hole in the ice, and the orangutans howled their angry joy, beating at the plaster trees and rubber vines in their pretty zoo cage, orange-furred arms waving like flags of cottonballs in a subtle breeze.
I purchased bananas, oranges and apples. I offered the orangatang a banana, he shook his head angerly and gave me the raspberry. "THPPPTTT". I dropped the banana into his cage. He pointed at the orange which I gave to him. He ate it greedily.
Ah the mountains... majestic and imposing. How did I get here? The cat decided she liked the dog's food after all and pigged out. Underneath the vacuum some dust mites fought over a flake of skin, not knowing that in a few seconds it wouldn't really matter.
Klynne
11-03-2003, 10:07 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
Four forward, sixteen back. I was making progress. Clippings, Texas, the Stardust lounge, me, you. The equivalent of chaos.
We could never be sure. We would never know! Dang it mom had been right again. She could still get to me.
Bubble wrap protected the antique creamer creating an odd symbiotic juxtaposition of old and new. He leaves his copy of Gray's anatomy in the apartment as he moves out. Underneath it all, vanilla still reigns as the supreme flavor, though cumin runs a close second.
Careful probing and dusting revealed nothing. She flexed her hand inside the latex glove - I could see the effort was beginning to wear her out. A fine line became visible in the corner of her left eye. Only I could discern it. She had confided in no one else. I had learned to read all the signs. It made me sad.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. Then it happened. Two steps forward and sixteen back, swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. It was no longer tranquil. The burn on my flesh was searing, scorching, hell to the mind of a calm, considerate pawn of life's cruel joke that puts us in harm's way and dictates the meaning of the axiom, "Life is but a dream, the nightmares comparative with the death of a mockingbird."
This is nothing! Her eyes glued to the monitor, she absentmindedly felt over for her coffee cup and brought it to her lips, spewing all over her keyboard as her brain processed last week's cool greasy former latte going into her mouth.
It was all relative. A strange symphony of words forming rhythm, breathing life into the seemingly random.
The penguin clumsily made his way across the ice, its surface glistening in the morning sun. The sky was an intense shade of blue, the kind that makes you so happy you want to run and never stop. A naughty penguin pushed the other into a hole in the ice, and the orangutans howled their angry joy, beating at the plaster trees and rubber vines in their pretty zoo cage, orange-furred arms waving like flags of cottonballs in a subtle breeze.
I purchased bananas, oranges and apples. I offered the orangatang a banana, he shook his head angerly and gave me the raspberry. "THPPPTTT". I dropped the banana into his cage. He pointed at the orange which I gave to him. He ate it greedily.
Ah the mountains... majestic and imposing. How did I get here? The cat decided she liked the dog's food after all and pigged out. Underneath the vacuum some dust mites fought over a flake of skin, not knowing that in a few seconds it wouldn't really matter.
Eight steps forward, and sixty four back. I feel like I am losing this race. I trained hard for this mission. What is nuclear fission? Does my butt look fat in these pants?
nycwriters
11-04-2003, 01:37 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
Four forward, sixteen back. I was making progress. Clippings, Texas, the Stardust lounge, me, you. The equivalent of chaos.
We could never be sure. We would never know! Dang it mom had been right again. She could still get to me.
Bubble wrap protected the antique creamer creating an odd symbiotic juxtaposition of old and new. He leaves his copy of Gray's anatomy in the apartment as he moves out. Underneath it all, vanilla still reigns as the supreme flavor, though cumin runs a close second.
Careful probing and dusting revealed nothing. She flexed her hand inside the latex glove - I could see the effort was beginning to wear her out. A fine line became visible in the corner of her left eye. Only I could discern it. She had confided in no one else. I had learned to read all the signs. It made me sad.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. Then it happened. Two steps forward and sixteen back, swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. It was no longer tranquil. The burn on my flesh was searing, scorching, hell to the mind of a calm, considerate pawn of life's cruel joke that puts us in harm's way and dictates the meaning of the axiom, "Life is but a dream, the nightmares comparative with the death of a mockingbird."
This is nothing! Her eyes glued to the monitor, she absentmindedly felt over for her coffee cup and brought it to her lips, spewing all over her keyboard as her brain processed last week's cool greasy former latte going into her mouth.
It was all relative. A strange symphony of words forming rhythm, breathing life into the seemingly random.
The penguin clumsily made his way across the ice, its surface glistening in the morning sun. The sky was an intense shade of blue, the kind that makes you so happy you want to run and never stop. A naughty penguin pushed the other into a hole in the ice, and the orangutans howled their angry joy, beating at the plaster trees and rubber vines in their pretty zoo cage, orange-furred arms waving like flags of cottonballs in a subtle breeze.
I purchased bananas, oranges and apples. I offered the orangatang a banana, he shook his head angerly and gave me the raspberry. "THPPPTTT". I dropped the banana into his cage. He pointed at the orange which I gave to him. He ate it greedily.
Ah the mountains... majestic and imposing. How did I get here? The cat decided she liked the dog's food after all and pigged out. Underneath the vacuum some dust mites fought over a flake of skin, not knowing that in a few seconds it wouldn't really matter.
Eight steps forward, and sixty four back. I feel like I am losing this race. I trained hard for this mission. What is nuclear fission? Does my butt look fat in these pants?
It didn't matter. It never does. Half the time we think, throughout the wooly corners of our lives, in quiet desperation of how this particular something just has to happen. Ifitdoesnthappeni'lldieohmygodpleaseletithappen!
And then the moment passes. And we don't die. And we recoil, until the next must happen comes into our lives and draws color into our cheeks. Fevered. It takes our breath away.
Klynne
11-04-2003, 11:24 PM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning. But would I ever learn to accept what I have become, with or without that damn ringing in my ears ? Desert wind sparkles of stardust and oasis dreams.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. This was the road I had chosen, just as surely as I had been born to walk it. I had almost partially decided that to be definitely completely true. The darkness that surrounded me was deafening. I felt hungry.
Fat juicy burgers swam past my field of vision. Was this the key to the meaning of life? I pondered the vegan alternative while the sand sucked at my toes. Ate pie, corner pocket.
Then it happened. The formula for pi floated before me, and it did have a finite end. Lucky for me, because if it didn't, it would still be floating there, over the face of the waters, way past the scraps of unfinished answers to questions no one ever thought to ask me, past the bottles without messages, and past, far beyond, the memory of that time we had in Ozona Texas.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. That was the place she had spoken about in the letter I had never received. Here at my feet was the manual he had thrown away. Just beyond my reach I saw a cellphone.
Swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. The price of ham had gone up 50 cents. People were yelling. The phone was ringing. Vapid, the Mad cow jumped in back, singing praises of undignified glory.
That's when I saw the clown. He wasn't your average ordinary clown. He was carrying a chain saw. I was humming a song that would not, could not leave my head. An idea became ever clearer in my mind; previous doubt and misgivings completely left me. I felt elated.
It was no longer tranquil. The road was empty, sixteen back in Ozona Texas. Some clown was bawling about a letter that was never received. The cellphone rang again. I handed it to the clown.
Ever since that day in September, he had not been the same. Troubled, he held it in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Like it was a foreign object he had never seen before. I felt a tenderness for him that made me ache. What had happened to him? To me? To us?
Suddenly a woman wearing a big floppy hat dropped a glass of ice water. The lights flickered and went out.
Most species of starfish shed their eggs and sperm freely into the water, so fertilization is externally.
Two steps forward and sixteen back. Fresh maple syrup on a pancake stack. The sweetness so near but I drowned it in beer. My synapses were sputtering when I heard something clear: the voice again. She asked me (again) about the persimmons in the front yard and the nightengales in the refridgerator and even about the tadpoles swimming in the water cooler. Again, I told her about the infinite robot shopping mall flourescent neon highway of life and its unusual accoutrements. And, yet (again) again she (me (we (it (star (galaxy))))) didn't get it. So what else to do? Sixteen back… sweet mattresses.
Buttressing my courage, I rolled my eyes around in my pockets and felt for a smoking gun. There was no way I was going to forget what my mother told me. I think it was something about the importance of cheesecloth. I can’t remember.
A piece of lint got stuck in my eye and suddenly a million car horns were blaring in my earlobes. I realized that when I walked backwards, I had gone back into the middle of the street I had just crossed, and cars and trucks had been driving past me and beeping all this time. How long had I been standing here? Hours? Days? Months? I began to feel a nagging urge for head cheese.
A clown crossed the street in the distance. Frogs began raining from the sky. I saw that It was carrying a whiffle ball bat. My five-iron goes 165 yards, maybe 170, under duress, so I better use the four. But the tablespace was uncoalesced and my redo was undone.
The continuity flowed. Erratic, disparate, but somehow together at the same time. "She's come undone" suddenly blared from the speakers at the table next to me. "Shut up! Shut up, all of you!"
Then I suddenly awoke. I wasn't in a restaurant with a clown and the music -- oh the sweet, sweet bitter music ... I was in church. My spouse was looking at me, mouth agape.
Father Pinsky glared from the pulpit. I was naked!
The mountain goat is the single North American representative of a widespread group of goat-like ungulates. The name mountain goat is misleading because this animal is not a true goat. Underneath his copy of _I Robot_ was a dejected paper clip of the blue plastic persuasion.
To all and sundry, she would say that she is going nowhere in a hurry. Although it is a well-known fact that mars is more distant than Earth, somehow I couldn’t persuade my friend that it is colder or even that it is more distant than venus, his logic being that if it’s red, it must be hot. Zeke choked down the last bacon cheeseburger with tears coming out of his eyes, wishing he had never bought it.
I covered the scrapes on my arm today, a week after the original injury, with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandage since it is on the top of my arm just above my elbow and keeps rubbing against trees, door jambs, other people, keeping it seepy and raw and not scabbed over.
I really don't like the color "camel".
Pinksy was perturbed. My mind had wandered again. "Gee, sir, Thanks for the duct tape." nothing really matters anymore to anybody anywhere under any circumstances. Who really cares about anything anymore anyway? Damn the torpedos.
The fingernail clippings just kept piling up, creating a slipping hazard. Eye contact across a crowded bar room resulted in three broken hearts, two and a half used prophylactics and no phone calls the next day, but one two weeks later, a wrong number, or so she thought.
PEA, or phenylethylamine, is also known as the “love chemical,” and combined with norepinephrine, creates the sensation, complete with weak knees and that way the person you’re in love with suddenly seems more attractive than anyone else, of falling in love. I sure like being inside this fancy computer.
Four forward, sixteen back. I was making progress. Clippings, Texas, the Stardust lounge, me, you. The equivalent of chaos.
We could never be sure. We would never know! Dang it mom had been right again. She could still get to me.
Bubble wrap protected the antique creamer creating an odd symbiotic juxtaposition of old and new. He leaves his copy of Gray's anatomy in the apartment as he moves out. Underneath it all, vanilla still reigns as the supreme flavor, though cumin runs a close second.
Careful probing and dusting revealed nothing. She flexed her hand inside the latex glove - I could see the effort was beginning to wear her out. A fine line became visible in the corner of her left eye. Only I could discern it. She had confided in no one else. I had learned to read all the signs. It made me sad.
Fundamentally, it had nothing to do with it. Then it happened. Two steps forward and sixteen back, swirling, ever swirling with indecision and something not unlike horror, I reached out. It was no longer tranquil. The burn on my flesh was searing, scorching, hell to the mind of a calm, considerate pawn of life's cruel joke that puts us in harm's way and dictates the meaning of the axiom, "Life is but a dream, the nightmares comparative with the death of a mockingbird."
This is nothing! Her eyes glued to the monitor, she absentmindedly felt over for her coffee cup and brought it to her lips, spewing all over her keyboard as her brain processed last week's cool greasy former latte going into her mouth.
It was all relative. A strange symphony of words forming rhythm, breathing life into the seemingly random.
The penguin clumsily made his way across the ice, its surface glistening in the morning sun. The sky was an intense shade of blue, the kind that makes you so happy you want to run and never stop. A naughty penguin pushed the other into a hole in the ice, and the orangutans howled their angry joy, beating at the plaster trees and rubber vines in their pretty zoo cage, orange-furred arms waving like flags of cottonballs in a subtle breeze.
I purchased bananas, oranges and apples. I offered the orangatang a banana, he shook his head angerly and gave me the raspberry. "THPPPTTT". I dropped the banana into his cage. He pointed at the orange which I gave to him. He ate it greedily.
Ah the mountains... majestic and imposing. How did I get here? The cat decided she liked the dog's food after all and pigged out. Underneath the vacuum some dust mites fought over a flake of skin, not knowing that in a few seconds it wouldn't really matter.
Eight steps forward, and sixty four back. I feel like I am losing this race. I trained hard for this mission. What is nuclear fission? Does my butt look fat in these pants?
It didn't matter. It never does. Half the time we think, throughout the wooly corners of our lives, in quiet desperation of how this particular something just has to happen. Ifitdoesnthappeni'lldieohmygodpleaseletithappen!
And then the moment passes. And we don't die. And we recoil, until the next must happen comes into our lives and draws color into our cheeks. Fevered. It takes our breath away.
I took off my shackles. I refuse to be a slave, to Father Pinksky, or my grave. I relish my new found freedom, and dance with the penguins on the ice.
The sun shines brightly upon my face, the penguins and I continue to trace, the cold clean ice, with our bare feet. Will we ever meet another soul, on this cold sacred ground?
nycwriters
11-05-2003, 12:00 AM
I think that's a fine way to end this story! Ze would you mind moving it to completed? :)
MoJoRiSin
03-19-2010, 10:27 AM
Moonlight set upon the shore. It was quiet, tranquil, waiting for something. Do I ask him, I let fate ask me. The sands started shifting although there was barely a breeze. A step or two maybe, in the right direction and I would be back to the beginning.
^ ok go
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