Nov 1, 2007

The Death of Positivism: A Short Ess



Scooters, vacation, fall: these are the words of a sure-fire losing situation-- kids ambling toward snack machines and the like. Take the following at face value:

My mind, she wanders around like bookstore employees after the older bosses leave for the day. She wanders, like an ocelot who dipped her feet in the cool stream for added energy. Lithe, my mind is, lithe.

Ergonomics, Heliotrope, Svelte. Those are words that'll set your watch. Yeah, they'll set it, steal it and leave you on your ass, blood running down your nose like it was breaking out of jail. Etheridge Knight should be lucky enough to describe or hold this blood. Those are words, man.

(Wanders about like a fox who lost his favorite stone. It was in her pocketbook last she saw, tucked away in one of those little bags one gets to hold small nails.)

Heretical, Helvetica, Hindsight: 20 of each leaves a bird in your bloodstream. That bird might lace a single back up the middle with a man on second. Here comes the throw. WHAT A PLAY HE WAS IN T

(Wanders about. Looking around. Has a question, but sleeps through the day, unimpressed and importunate. Devaluing it's surrounding but wandering, wandering, wandering. Narrow passages and marrow leaking, wandering.)

Meticulous, Emphatic, Incorrigible. CTRL/ALT/DLT. CTRL/ALT/DLT.

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