I've never been able to eat a snow cone. Not since. You see, when blood drops onto fresh snow, it looks like a snow cone; and for that same reason, I never eat strawberries either. But the funny thing is, I think about both all the time. This is why I sit alone. Who else sees as I see. As they buy their kids snow cones. And summer strawberries grace their tables.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
1944 (snow cones)
I've never been able to eat a snow cone. Not since. You see, when blood drops onto fresh snow, it looks like a snow cone; and for that same reason, I never eat strawberries either. But the funny thing is, I think about both all the time. This is why I sit alone. Who else sees as I see. As they buy their kids snow cones. And summer strawberries grace their tables.
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6 comments:
I'm going to come across as bird-fixated, I'm sure, but this image - fractal spoonbill.
Check the Badger's image on Digital Existence and tell me it's not illustrative of some of your medieval things . .
Lime, that pickaxe fits perfectly. I need to google me some spoonbills now. :-)
Imagine. After months upon months of reading, you not only have the ability to surprise regular readers, but the ability to surprise with every post in one way or another. The post itself touches upon the foreignness of the associations, I would have said beyond fantasy to the individual witnessing, feeling, making those personal visual connections as they stood amidst, watching, which is why the comparisons are/the post is not only excellent, but positively spellbinding.
Sunshine, from the moment I saw him dying in her arms, I saw his blood drop to the snow, deep crimson, spreading and looking like an icy snowball. She would have seen the same thing, his life, into the snow. And she would have never forgotten what that looked like.
I'm sitting at the blogher conference right now reading you and I am telling my friend, read this guy, read him, he is really something special. And she will come and she will read you. If that is all I get out of this conference then that is good. Someone else who loves words to pick yours up and study them, curious, beautiful creations.
And here it goes, no big surprise, fucken brilliant.
Oh Woman, you can whip me with your words any day and I will fall to my knees and beg for more. Let the air sizzle with your intent and our ears ring in your result. :-D
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