Sunday, October 7, 2007

New: THURSDAYS by Sandy Florian

By Sandy Florian
(Orig. Posted Aug 2, 2007 on another blog, moved here as a sample starter text.)

it's like poking my head out the window in some sort of monastic quarrel, like a yellow yoke, a rouge cheek, or an earing like a christmas ornament dangling from the leftish lobe, then it's like a rocket, or like a rocket launcher, like the way you roll down your window, with more glitz, more bang, and then the bomb explodes and there's a whole new world right about the time when you honk your horn around the tightest bend, then it's like a midget in the crown of the elephant falling flat as a crepe on the ground, the phone sits so close to me, and when it's like that, there's a bit of a septimal glow about it, my tits are hanging low these days, and there's a bigger way around the bend, and i'm looking bewildered on this bewildering stage blinking like a new born baby trying to wipe his eyes out, the phone sits so close to me, like a heavy bee all buzzed out

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