Friday, November 4, 2011

"1 2 3. 4, 5 6. 9. ... Go!"

Mushrooms growing from the stump in the corner of the courtyard, that bit that can't keep it's grass. 7 skies h3 blending with the wind and the neighbors patriotic windchimes. Dogs are barking. The harsh cry of the neighbor kid; skinned knee.

And his Baby Einstein branded kickball.
Ours is just green.

English breakfast tea - black gone cold. Trying to read Noise, in fragments. Figments.
Hour and a half. Wash the feet.

Remembering the tasks for the day, those left unfinished. The music drifts with me as I fade in and out. An argument for synthetic/synthesized/syncretic/synchronicity. The number 23.

"Fast running! Daddy, chase me! 1 2 3. 4, 5 6. 9. ... Go!"

- Posted from my φάρμακον.

Location:Sorrento Cir,Winter Park,United States

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