OH I KNOW THEY'RE
SPEECHLESS NOW
Out of time and words and ire.
The tidbits have nothing left to
say. Is that a success, when you
leave them speechless? All their
little words and the common chatter
they always feel they have to bray.
-
Here's me. In the mirror. Driving away.
I'm on a highway to nowhere, backing
up to the end. There are concrete sheds
on either side of me, each shed with
bins for a different size of rock. That's
how the quarry sells them : truckloads,
by the ton. Boulders to pebbles to course
to fine. Whatever paving-top you've a need,
you'll find. I pass the rocks without looking.
Wanting nothing, why look? Why stop?
-
Right now, anyway, I'm living the zen life
up here at Tony Bell Manor. There are no
services or amenities of any sort, except
dirt - to sleep on. We're at that stage of
being where none of that should matter,
and we desire nothing anymore, anyway.
Your Lulumon pants are so yesterday.
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