Monday, October 21, 2013

A la Gertrude Stein

Taken aback. I am taken aback. Boxes and hallways that froze in our doors. Hollow. Alo. Hello. Tight lines and hemmed jeans. If you need to sneeze, don't breathe. Ha. Ah. Ah. Huh. Sounds like a hurricane. Too bad there's not enough room. Without blood, your chair will tip over. So take out your pencil. The exam will begin in five minutes. Your white shirt is too tight. Your ears are too low. An explosion in London-the bridge has fallen down. Without the red, I would collapse and breathe too quickly and paint the world black. Black is a color for those without shoes on. Concrete. Asphalt. Mud Pies made of Ash. A world is for ants to build and people to shape boxes. Box Box Box Box Box Box Box Box. My little red thinks she's a robot. Oh red, he really hasn't broken into his tap shoes yet. But something is clacking. Horses feet go boom boom boom. You've never heard me without my hair down. You've never seen that side of the moon. A frame is a window. A frame is a lock.