SLIPSTREAM
Now and again a moment happens which
(seems to) change(s) the world. A deck of
cards with an obscure hole in the middle.
Two men, walking the Brooklyn Bridge, singing
Irish songs across the sky and traffic - while
below them a few large boats float by.
Those craft are powered by a Diesel fuel so
rich that one can smell the odor as it wafts
past those two, quite drunk and happy, men.
In noodles and doodles both, like children, we
let these things happen. Objects seem to float,
yet actually have a massive power and pull of
their own. In the course of our days, it is
our responsibility to find those things out:
those things which float, and those
things which need an outside power.
(Find the slipstream, and ride it through).
Now and again a moment happens which
(seems to) change(s) the world. A deck of
cards with an obscure hole in the middle.
Two men, walking the Brooklyn Bridge, singing
Irish songs across the sky and traffic - while
below them a few large boats float by.
Those craft are powered by a Diesel fuel so
rich that one can smell the odor as it wafts
past those two, quite drunk and happy, men.
In noodles and doodles both, like children, we
let these things happen. Objects seem to float,
yet actually have a massive power and pull of
their own. In the course of our days, it is
our responsibility to find those things out:
those things which float, and those
things which need an outside power.
(Find the slipstream, and ride it through).
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