It always makes nonsense

Jun 03 2008 Published by in inklings, intransitive verbiage

When I woke up this morning, my city had dissolved into cigarette butts and tattered chip bags. Yellowed newspapers shredded by spike heels and magpies. Used coffee cups rolling against the kerb. Plastic plastered into chain link fences. And I could smell the nothing childhood smell of caragana bushes. Wood and green and shady hiding spots and small yellow flowers. Mixed with lilac that never stays long enough. Evaporating dew and insect wings. But I put on these clothes to tell you who I am today and these shoes I’ve forgiven for blistering. And all this is. Anyway. Again.

3 responses so far

  • I really like this!

  • I absolutely agree with vesper de vil. So much fantastic in a short post – I don’t know if it’s right or wrong, but that’s how I view great writing. Perfectly succinct and powerful because of it.

    Just, wow. Found you through vesper, but I’m totally stalking you from this point forward. ;)

  • Jess says:

    Jurgen Nation – I’ve been trying to figure out how to respond to this for a couple of days. I’m tickled that you enjoyed this so much. I’m always happy to pick up another stalker too. That’s why we blog, isn’t it? :)

    vesper – As always, your enthusiasm makes me smile.