Friday, June 16, 2017

9641. OH WELL

The borders are closed again and
the next town along the way is a
blank. The high-wire guy says he's
finished for now and the cake-lady
is still dressing. Today I passed the
race-car museum but didn't stop. I
was going too fast : but I figured it
to to be an appropriate gesture as I
sped by. Why not, and wouldn't you
agree? I'll go back, the same day I'm
seeking long-lost junkyards I can 
never find again. I think my life is
a story-book clockwork. Sped up
or slowed down, twisted and 
dripping, time out of place and 
places out of time. A real peach,
in a bowlful of waxed fruit.

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