Saturday, May 02, 2009

The Thing Itself

I might have a question about the thing
or the thing that sees beauty like an owner
owns a TV tray or a belt buckle. The question
I have might be stated in the form of a crayon
drawing or the pronunciation of the word
crayon itself, stopping there on my point
say or a window display of furniture on Pacific
near Henry by the sushi place
that can best be described as Patrician.
Those are words we use in the company
of people we eat with or have conversations with
that is the public self making masks
with vocabulary when actually we are grunting
and still the thing is oozing around
on the wet street a slug waiting for
a mound of table salt a slit of light
through the clouds language doesn't
make anything better we are all just so alone.

1 Comments:

Blogger VicoLetter said...

'...and still the thing is oozing around
on the wet street a slug waiting for
a mound of table salt a slit of light...'

lovelylovelylovley

Meds is Deads :(
Viva le Vico!

thanks Mr. Colby for your spirit your brilliance your warm and wonderful words xo

10:33 AM  

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