From this wooded landing, casting forth unfocused into the pelvic midst of night,
Not yet anointed by dawn-glow The notion of actors here,
Props embellishing this, dogeared scripts puzzling upon it as
Preposterous of notions as
Electricity or, say,
Time travel--
To this prehistoric medium
Alone
We venture with no mediation, fiction, introduction--
Nude.
We must manage the dearness of this hour,
And never bow to curse the darkness
As it held us in maternal proximity,
When in urgency and not-knowing
We waited for one another to appear.
Applauses of brittle leaves at the moment of their descents await;
We are expected to be true.
Abigail
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How much fun could a movie about a group of mostly dopey criminals being
trapped in a mansion with a rampaging child vampire with a penchant for
ballet b...
1 day ago
2 comments:
Jasmine rice with a whole white onion along in the cooker;
thick cut pork chops pan fried in olive oil and rosemary;
cold no-shoog apple sauce;
asparagus urine-bombs.
Love from the whole crew
Nothing quite like asparagus piss! Thanks for the nice tidings, Cap'm & as many right back at you!
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