...the junk drawer of my mind... look if you want. you might find dreams scraps (maybe featuring you?), poem scraps, ideas unformed or abandoned, dried out sharpie pens, 37 cent stamps, lies and red-herrings, lip-gloss and assorted dangling and/or misplaced modifiers.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
visitor 1
He looks like John Malkovich a bit but his skin is the color of butterscotch. Without taking his eyes off of me (is my bedroom made of glass?), he sits in the far chair by the fireplace, very slowly. He folds his hands and looks at me. The door between me and him is locked. I know he knows it and that the other two aren't. I could get there to the others and lock them first, I think - knowing I couldn't. I move without touching the ground, fast. Then I get to the last door. Of course he is right there as if he always was. He is not a rapist, just Malevolence. Very simply and unassumingly that. No surprises in how he is or moves. Why even bother with these locks and doors, these many houses of mine?
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5 comments:
was at my mom's last night. she came into the living room and handed me a hand-sized, actually butterscotch colored head of a man (more Taliban than Malkovich) and said, "Is he evil?"
same eyes as visitor 1 --EXACTLY.
kinda cool.
This is all somehow related to the good luck you have brought to the Uruguay soccer team since your visit.
not many know that was my doing. thanks for the acknowledgment. ;-)
Could You do this for another team on Wednesday and definitely not for Spain ? ;-))
Absolutely! Just don't tell anyone;...that's part of my power.
ps. goldi159. i'm missing you all so very much. how are you? how is your pa, your ma, your wife, your kids, your siblings, your country? we're all well...very well...but time seems to be flying!
♥♥♥, Laura
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