The body of the mammal hat And Hovering. Why Red Mountain Hovers, keeping Birds and The Dead Waiting
Say.
Say didn’t We just come awake? Did we just die again? The diner’s closed, the wimples stashed, Big Top has been sunset-cauterized for the evening. Our plane is landing; suddenly We were not on vacation, and then We Are. We always Are! We meant it, and let there be no doubt.
The plane lands again. We gets off again. Red mountain, having lifted and soared overhead (Rapture Hat Standard Time), disco-doggied and tearing the covers off the earth's beds of dirt, loosening many birds from uniform dreams of arrows, now comes to hover a sec.
Forever.
What did we expect? Commercial Appreciation Season. We pause for a moment of gluttony and silence. Commercial Appreciation approaches us, swaggering like a cheese, cutting a path through the Zoned Area where red mountain had stuck forever, like the dorsal fin of a shark god whose teeth were cleaned by the dead.
The area on the drywallscape of the flown mountain time aperture showed a little darker, smelled a little stronger of fresh wall paint, had been a little less faded by afterlight and air. Red mountain had flopped like a Flopper In Bed and eventually flew the coop. Perhaps it always had! It did resemble a hat. Time works all different On Vacation anyways. But We knew one thing: things haven’t been the same since Our vacation began/ended! And now they haven’t gone back, although we Have and Always Will! As We get home to red mountain but It Not There!
Which is now our home again as the vacation portion of our topographical expedition shuts its mouth only to open another mouth. Red mountain be Hatted! We cried; we have Cried; I has and You has; We Have cried as we toss our carry-on bags of mesh on the water table! A few birds fly away. We have cried! and looked oddly at the toiletries we took with us on Vacation and gain suddenly a new appreciation, as though we'd just bought 'em and were dumping em on a kitchen table instead.
Let’s go to the store, seeths Commercial Appreciation. You All have to watch out. He is not Us, He is the bad man. He’s a squatter. He the absence of buried power lines and a car hitting a butterfly etc. He Not Rapture. He that keeps the dead from going about their business. He a clean window to a bird.
No, I say to Us, because We must not acknowledge Commercial Appreciation. If we do we will die and never come back. Not even look, iss a no=no.
No, let’s just get all this mesh out of the mesh bags. So We can see what we got on Vacation.
Say didn’t We just come awake? Did we just die again? The diner’s closed, the wimples stashed, Big Top has been sunset-cauterized for the evening. Our plane is landing; suddenly We were not on vacation, and then We Are. We always Are! We meant it, and let there be no doubt.
The plane lands again. We gets off again. Red mountain, having lifted and soared overhead (Rapture Hat Standard Time), disco-doggied and tearing the covers off the earth's beds of dirt, loosening many birds from uniform dreams of arrows, now comes to hover a sec.
Forever.
What did we expect? Commercial Appreciation Season. We pause for a moment of gluttony and silence. Commercial Appreciation approaches us, swaggering like a cheese, cutting a path through the Zoned Area where red mountain had stuck forever, like the dorsal fin of a shark god whose teeth were cleaned by the dead.
The area on the drywallscape of the flown mountain time aperture showed a little darker, smelled a little stronger of fresh wall paint, had been a little less faded by afterlight and air. Red mountain had flopped like a Flopper In Bed and eventually flew the coop. Perhaps it always had! It did resemble a hat. Time works all different On Vacation anyways. But We knew one thing: things haven’t been the same since Our vacation began/ended! And now they haven’t gone back, although we Have and Always Will! As We get home to red mountain but It Not There!
Which is now our home again as the vacation portion of our topographical expedition shuts its mouth only to open another mouth. Red mountain be Hatted! We cried; we have Cried; I has and You has; We Have cried as we toss our carry-on bags of mesh on the water table! A few birds fly away. We have cried! and looked oddly at the toiletries we took with us on Vacation and gain suddenly a new appreciation, as though we'd just bought 'em and were dumping em on a kitchen table instead.
Let’s go to the store, seeths Commercial Appreciation. You All have to watch out. He is not Us, He is the bad man. He’s a squatter. He the absence of buried power lines and a car hitting a butterfly etc. He Not Rapture. He that keeps the dead from going about their business. He a clean window to a bird.
No, I say to Us, because We must not acknowledge Commercial Appreciation. If we do we will die and never come back. Not even look, iss a no=no.
No, let’s just get all this mesh out of the mesh bags. So We can see what we got on Vacation.
posted by the landscapers of at 14.9.06
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