come on across to the Internet.......... "The way it was in prehistoric days
merged with the screen for days........when survival wasn't tempered with sick leave
brown grass on the hills......................or with the tentative magic of vacation,
otherwise soft brown face .....we are constantly hunting and gathering in cyberspace --
merged with the screen for days....................
through sickness and invasive circumstance --
burning, burning, burning.....as if our daily suppers depend on it,
ancient struggles..........which in fact they do,"
sleep...............................I said,
had he been there all along?...........turning back to the keyboard......... brown grass on the hills............. ancient struggles.................. the smell of green grass... as unexpected as a clear coherent voice...................... black icy streets........................ working............................ making things.................... blue shirt....................... making love...................... blue jeans......................... potato soup...................... never know why............... unwashed windows........... a dark corner.................... walking............................. riding................................ the horizon........................

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