- Elementary Funk
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Hours long the journey from tomorrow into yesterday. Today disappearing into the time ticking backwards at a standstill as people walk forwards and everything else moves sideways. Cross that line and cross it well, the sun always comes up tomorrow. In any way or fashion.
No places for shoes in suitcases. Packing tight, packing right, packing for the flight. Not enough and too much. Always looking for a better way to roll air into oblivion and negative space. Squeeze with all the might to compress a knuckle into a fist. Do it once more. Do it within reason.
Feeling the heat bead down the face waking up one day, the weather looms overhead days in the cold and chilly frost of the Midwest. Time to fly the skies with United. Dry air and dry water. Keeping up with the fluids and keeping the drinks cup sloshing with the simple yet vital nutrient of plain water. Water from the plane. Water on the plane. No waiter on the plane.
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cooling the breeze. Seasons to change and a mind runs free. Free for the snow to cover the ground and ice the veins. Sweat for frost and a day or two will repeat for history's sake.
Sunday, 3 February 2008 - 15:34
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