Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Theoretical Right Angels/Angles


I vigorously rubbed my canvas shoe in time with the rhythm section of a Syl Johnson song,I kept my head down to retain some sort of confidence.This had been the very same place I got the rugburn with the scab akin to a 1dollar bouncing ball,This had been the very same place you stood arms akimbo flashing me feckless bedroom eyes...Trotting out cliches is something we all do.

He was chewing his fingernails,a portion of his mouth was sectioned off for the clippings..Stacked like keratin enriched firewood.With his hands held up to a television each finger resembled a mountain range, peaks and valleys carved out of nothing, acts of god....Or in this case acts of Todd as his name tag displayed.

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