Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Details equals details

There's something mysterious in the rain blown against a fence by an afternoon wind.

Mortgage payment was due. Insurance check arrives in the mail.

There's something mysterious about a broken branch dangling by a tread in a yard.

There's something mysterious thinking about low tide while sitting in a house in Vermont.

Any clock will hold the mysterious. Any doubt. Any laughing to oneself.

The way lines of geese are rips in the veil of the sky.

When the phone rings while you're watching a movie that's mysterious.

Taking about a closet and refurbishing it to find maybe lost money is mysterious moment of maybe.

Mysterious quiet. Kabuki dawn. The sky on a John Cage trip.

A slice of bread and the hunger that went before it and which cannot be remembered.

A runaway dream where you can't get away. The computer gear that keeps loading and loading and loading until you need to make a decision. Some woman playing with her tired curly dark curly hair and stretching into the back of a green wet car and smiling kindly in profile.

It's mysterious to know something and not find the origin from this information.

Mist gliding away in the trees is a mysterious contrivance that wants to be so rightly cinematic inside the eyes.


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