Friday, December 12, 2008

Walking Between The Seconds



Its fifteen below. I'm up typing for hours at a time, and my body structure has found new definition, as if a different artist took over chronicling my spiral downward, my descent. I wish I could shove nanites down my throat and slice off my arms and replace them with wiper blades, the only thing handy right now that comes as a matching pair. Thinking about women in faraway places, thinking of novels and stories and being melded to the keyboard. And wishing I was a drifter, walking the railroads, an insane unknown. Happy.

5 comments:

Yvonne Navarro said...

15 below? It's 7:09 a.m. and 52 degrees here and there's a wind advisory. They're warning drivers that there "might" be snow.

15 below? God, I'm glad I'm in Arizona.

HemlockMan said...

15 below.

Shit.

Coldest weather I've ever seen was 5 below. Cold enough. No thanks.

Stay close to the keyboard.

Warmer there.

Charles Gramlich said...

Well, hey, that's still well above absolute zero, where no molecules can even move.

Steve Malley said...

A lyrical tone poem, masquerading as a blog post.

Hope the writing gig continues well. You are one eloquent guy...

Lana Gramlich said...

I remember -15. Screw THAT, I say!
Irony again, Wayne. I had my wiper blades replaced yesterday (our recent snowfall decided to shred my last pair.) I love the photo here, btw. Haunting.