Another dose of poetry awaiting me this morning. I can't help but find beauty in the these words that are not even neighbors, but for today beside each other for the ride.
Flash card antebellum as a carefulness of clergyman. Sweetly and Laundromat. Weak and foreseeable, in peril. Wretched Latino as oriental grandfather clock sidekick. Top heavy convenient and consolidate the diamond anniversary. Suburbia is a castaway, flying.
My eye dances a bit when reading, like a paper cup bobbing along the surface water roll of the rapids. I stare at the words and create meaning where there is none intended. I want to write them out by hand and discover the curves and lines. Strung together, they have a scent of belonging, a warmth of reunion, the magic of an almost full moon.
Hold on a minute. What this says is that I am that much closer to the edge. As in the edge of my sanity. Because before I just now shook my head and snapped out of it, I was actually becoming a bit smitten with my spam mail.
3 comments:
What if these spam that we all ignore are actually coded messages from some super-secret spy organization? If we could only break the code then we could stop Dr. Evil from making hairless cats or something.
Sweetly and Laundromat. Weak and foreseeable, in peril. Cringe logically and praise eggshell!
that last sentence actually made sense to me.
NOT SPAM
I miss my friend - must get together soon
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