I really am lost in time and in my own surreal existence. This morning, abrupt noises of automatic garden equipment, and their harsh killer-like growls, intruded on my solitude. On a warm day, my neighbor plays with his bottle of weed killer, insect dissolver, leaf blower, and blow torch. He walks his leaf blower across his yard, while I rake my 5 acres with an old rusty rake. I flip a match across a chocolate stained matchbox strip, to burn the leaves I raked in an old fashioned way. The neighbor aims a blow torch at his leaves, spurting out grumbling manic licks of flame. I watch him move his big belly out of the torches way. I sip at my absinthe, play harp under the moon, kiss the Centennial Daffodils, and I even like raking leaves with a rusty old rake. Amazing
Posted on: Tue, 22 Apr 2014 19:17:20 +0000