Near Matches
Ignore Exact
Everything
2
Like most of my dreams, that one was licensed for commercial use
(
idea
)
by
junkpile
Wed Mar 21 2001 at 5:26:43
Skyler
was pleased with himself but did not want to appear proud. So he came to me with few words, asking me what I thought, hoping I would tell him it was good. It was.
He had figured out the holograms again
, a better application, integrating them into a mesh as thin as paper. Easy enough to work into a book (
it will get cheaper
, he said), this would be the new illustration. We had known this was coming but Skyler was of course the one who broke the code and showed us how.
The book he handed me contained her poetry. Others' work too, but hers was the page we were interested in. Above her poem was her painting - two paintings sharing the same space, morphing into each other and back, the paint swirling and drawing me in until I could smell the
turpentine and brushes and weeks of thought
that had gone into it.
A man's shadow creeping up behind him
while his neighbor wrestled with someone whose face we could not see.
A red flower in the corner, in the dark.
What do you think
, he said again.
Well it looks like a painting of a
chrysanthemum
done by a girl who does not know
how to paint chrysanthemums
.
He laughed.
I know. And it will read you her poem,
listen
.
printable version
chaos
How to paint a tetrahedron
Even though I sleep terribly with another body in the bed
I am sorry but when you were talking I was admiring the shape of your lips and evaluating their kissability
Many of me, laid end to end, would never reach the moon
A silence that escapes, how it plagues my wandering thought
How to make brown
He had something to say. He said it.
I just had a pap smear, for crying out loud. Don't invite me out for coffee.
A red flower in the corner, in the dark
satellites fallen from grace
Listen
The Unperfekthaus
fake dream for swoony
multimedia
December 5, 2006
Barnard's Star
=broken=
classical music
When does a dream become public domain?
The Death of Setanta
Cortis
My body felt heavy in flight
Ed Koch
Trying to stomp the life out of false hope
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