Creation (Nth tool of the tree)

fig.75.19) We accept and conserve because its energy will become our energy as our energy becomes inert.

"What about the egg and the milk?"

"No, you don't want it to curdle before you get some ground around it," I told her. "Don't forget the flour."

The garden was already busy this morning. The wet shock of the storm had made the stone path slippery and the leafs and the vines tossed hunterly greens around us and up into the canopy above. We were witnesses the menace as it unfolded around us with every step. That's when it dawned on me, I scooped up some mud and gravel with my two hands. The fibery moss that was mixed in with it felt delicate and honest. I compressed the wad of Earth into a tight little ball. I envied the extent to which the narwhals and hummingbirds shared this world. To my lump I added some shiny feathers fashioned from the petals of a sad cornflower. Then to finish, all it needed was a good snout. I found a bit of straw, the remains of some child's fanciful snack. I set it in place, now my contrivance looked perfect. How this ghastly wad has utterly changed now into this tiny flying narwal is miraculous.

Kat looked at me with her sharp eyes and absently pulled another fruit from the tree. "This isn't going to be how we talk about the fish every night right?"

"I think it's sex. We shouldn't call it fish anymore. Let's call it sex instead."

Comments

Totem

Tonight is old. It's wett but current and bored. I'm watching nothing but stars in the often sky that happen... do... tonight is lame like old, young like song, even as blue... Equal after the sun, noon or scripted yellow you are to me... A we (as sound)

Whiskers, chanting, "swap me, swap me!"

Fig.32) Aging poorly We're just together, taking ourselves for a tidy sum of walk and now our toes are wet and cool in the Lak, beside a cool stone that could drive a modernist to their flint. There's a listening experience that feels prepared, "our's for now, ours it says! Here's the hammer and it's wrapped in its own design already. A union in time-space, this card is our greetings, our massive, our very patience is reflected in this resolve." Suddenly, there's a cut away and she's wearing the pants that I've made for her, slow blue like painted smoke . I'm thinking about her hunched over the kitchen table, something that's stuck. There's a carving knife in her hand but from here, it's the same as an old spoon. From here my computer is sitting on my guilty seat, I'm thinking about champagne and comparing it to a thick wad bees and wondering whats in it for me? It's an anxious season, filled with not enough of anythin

Songlet is Best

fig.0231) FizzGraf MT. "Magical, like a chorus of like minded souls in a froth of cotton fumes." Over fake doors, under refurbished ladders, gypsum board and bent yellow pipes offering us an unmade bed and a stained window. Our one chance at tomorrow. Magnetic guts from at least a thousand cassettes are strewn across the room. Hee-Haw style, fancy dress shoes cling to the floor like it's '86 all over again. Hee-Haw, goes the sound. Hee-Haw, we're closer then we were. Hee-Haw, it's hilarious. Listening for trains, leaning out over the rails like two people with no time at all. Better maps, that's what we need. We could use a melody for singing with this chorus; in whose curious presence more patients wait to be found. With hands over our heads, someone passes by and asks, "gender?" There's stars in this sweet tooth of mine and some atoms left from the sky, Tonight the whole angle of heaven sleeps without light. Ordering its coffee darkest, t

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