Wednesday, 14 July 2010

in summer i watch the ice melt. i guess that's enough to leave anybody feeling guilty. i like it when the clouds are grey on days like this. they look more two-dimensional than white clouds do. just pasted upon the pastel sky. they look more superimposed. they make you feel like everything is fake. that nothing up there, nor down here has the ability to mean anything. i like it most when it's windy. when i'm in a coat and drinking cold beer. being hit by wind. the cold air giving me the sensation of pissing in a winter forest at night time. the little wriggle of the spine as the flow of urine starts to cease. the body shiver as you shake the last dribbles of piss from your penis. i love that shudder. i like it when the sun comes from behind the grey clouds. the false hope for the school children on their weekends or holidays. running out to the streets to play, only to race back inside moments later, dodging the ice cold rain drops. standing in hallways being dried by grandparents. towelled dressing gowns. i don't believe that clouds don't move. on windy days, i see them in races. like ducklings in puddles. or ducks in ponds. the dinosaur shaped cloud, beaten by the three-legged dog in wellingtons. i like being alone in the country because nobody can hear you grate your teeth. they can't see your thoughts. you can just hear the trees, and they sound like the tide, striking a shore of fossils and eggshells.

4 comments:

  1. "in summer i watch the ice melt. i guess that's enough to leave anybody feeling guilty."


    "i don't believe that clouds don't move. on windy days, i see them in races. like ducklings in puddles."


    = really, really nice. false hope for schoolchildren and shudders. you gotta write more often, man.

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