VALUE Empires fall like cigarette ashes, the floor the big amen. Imagine life on earth coming down to golfing greens and Saturday afternoons, people who desperately want to watch, gasping as Michelson hits a ball just before the hellish ride homewards. Bewildering to me is how a penny on the asphalt reminds me of my suicide father: delicate, shining, the very Atlas of worth and worthlessness, and then these bruised phrases, the mercy no one bothers with anymore. Like an eye on the sidewalk, empowered into infinity by sunlight, one homeless penny coins it all while floating heavily beneath ever-changing skies as if to tug the earth upwards gently. Mocking the moon, striking light like silver trout in a brook, the builders, destroyers and the embarrassed simply step around it, their prayers too proud to retrieve such atomity that should not fit.
Posted on: Tue, 12 Aug 2014 23:43:22 +0000
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