Thursday, September 25, 2008


We can talk about the secret of death while tethered together by the lace we once curled around the breaker box of grandma's neck. Think of electricity as nothing more than a profound pinch from death's bony finger. In the open with wet feet we feel lanky of build and able to twist off the end of the bread bag with a wrench. A toast to the buildings that still stand! A toast to the trees that are feigning longevity! A toast to the pets that will die in our arms! Death has a fake marble hallway and mock velvet curtains inside the pretend mind fuck mansion. Death has a shark stuffed with eucalyptus and calls that installation art. Death knows no bounds, the cure is waiting where you'll fall one day; a patch of ground that you'll be smashed on is waiting for your body. Until then, shout and make the candy crunch between your teeth. Ask for the gas at the dentist and all of these things will be revealed to you. All of them. Don't be disgusted.


Blogger Sarah T. said...

Love this.

5:06 PM  

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