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I had two foods from my childhood tonight and
the sugar cube was a complete let down.
All promise, stacked high
in that
crystalline stack and then
collapsed like a wet meringue.
Blech. A mouth full of undifferentiated
former-cube fragments, trying to
escape each other and
nowhere good
to go.
The music flows through her head. She does not know how to dance but her thoughts do.
Trying to find a place that's not shaded.
Damn trees everywhere.
I just need one spot where
my skin can make contact with the sun.
Light is part of the sun, did you know that?
It's not an offshoot or something sparkly
the sun shakes loose like
water from a dog.
It's more like actual dog parts.
Our share of cosmic dog parts, sprinkled down.
This planet is covered in dog.
That's the truth.
Some of that dog gets tangled in the trees.
Some gets tripped up by clouds.
And what I need right now is
a clear spot to lie down.
Soak in
the living dog.
I've recently started blogging about things-creativity-and-tech at work. Using my own name even. My other own name.
Before too long, there should be an actual brand-new creativity subsite I can link to, but for now, it's more like a post here and there. Today's entry: Dr. Horrible and the Future of Entertainment, which reveals why Doogie Howser is the man of tomorrow.
Feeling lucky, he realized, about two minutes too late, was not the same as being lucky.
You say I'm a snake but snakes
move with purpose, right?
They lead with their head. Reach
with their mouth. Draw a
dry belly line with an impulse dotting
each turn.
Have you ever seen a snake tumble? Or trip? Or twist?
Not a snake.
Saw real bikers tonight.
Four bikers, they lined up
side by side across both lanes with
their leather jackets. Comfortable, warm.
Cocooned in that roar that they
made together.
About-Creativity.com
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