RTP 3: Crash dawn palace
Occupied
Haze in the corridors with flashing lights off the sun panels from the Western Distributor and the challenge of finding blindness, temporary, in the echoes of slumber for but just minutes of the day.
With a reset in order of the clock which governs the energy within, fixes of time score along the middle of the day with early morning dashes of various scenes a necessary detour.
Cross the corner of the cubicle over looking the greens underneath with Moreton's on the left, a snap into the time frame losing posture and the slump of the dead. Too high, too low, and an improper rhythm kicks out the flow.
Bearing the brunt across the fore, arms lock into position and submission. Soft is as soft can only ever try to be when bone cuts into the skull with the parallelism of eyes burning the back of the head. Strewn in the middle of the pathways, where all and sundry know to pay a turn.
Snapped into line, the neck faces up with the head hitting the back of the melamine, or whatever white desks are made of. Slipping right into the zone of alphabet closes, the button tricks up a medium for locking in a dead weight for eyes to close out and find a little bit of piece.
Resolution finds a spot for times with too many faces, traces and wandering paces. Side step into a loading and waiting section where cases wait to vanish at the end of the day. Despite the best of nooks for the crook, fluorescents and the reach drain all to pump a course of energy to defeat the purpose to a square.
Soon Van - Friday, 9 March 2007 - 20:33
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Previous entries on Occupied
- RTP 2: Ghosts in the shell
- BTC 55: Fort worth against the odds and evens
- BTC 54: Rashay's on Macquarie Cafe Restaurant
- Return to Parsing
- MOY 43: Dragging in with defeat
- MOY 42: Pinching dead presidents in Boston
