the world at my kitchen table
We are scaling down. Winter cleaning, or whatever you call it. Planning to ship out. So tonight I got out my old suitcases full of paper and spread them out on the kitchen table, in semi-random arrangements, like so (exhibits a, b and c).
I was tidying up. Out came all my old ripped up National Geographics and dismembered scraps of OHP-printed poetry. Now I am in bed with the [more doting] cat on my feet and my headphones on and all of downstairs is an abandoned disaster zone. I achieved nothing this evening but these photos and a whole heap of mess.
In between times we watched A Complete History of my Sexual Failures and I believe I also coined the expression knee-deep in needy, but not about anything in particular. Just because it sounded funny.
Things like —-
thrusts concrete fingers skyward
The Man Who Made Time Stand Still
and, perhaps best of all —
It fired bullets through lightbulbs, pieces of chalk, soap bubbles, radishes, and bananas, as well as innumerable apples. Live subjects – shot only with a camera – include hummingbirds, bats, dolphins, dancers, cheerleaders and acrobats.
The thing is, by the time I arrive at these captions they are just fortune cookie-sized strips, orphaned, captioning nothing. I can only guess at the thing they’re supposed to be giving explanation to.
It’s kinda true to say that tonight I had the world spread out on my kitchen table. City fires. Nighttime rollercoasters. Mud huts. Skyscrapers, illuminated from within. Timber wolves running through snow. Neon signs and wild dogs. Aerial cities, purple with dusk. Ice floes. Lichen. Winter trees. Coral reefs.
Friday is maybe the best night of all nights. Just maybe. Empty carboard boxes are daunting, but – for now – an untouched weekend beckons.
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