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[personal profile] fflo
Dear Neighbors,

Obviously I can't mow the yard. It's gonna rain. It's always gonna rain some time, too. But today it's gray/grey and thick and quiet except for that subtle tinnitus-like screetch of whatever insects do that stringy buzz, and a chirp here or there, and it's perpetually threatening to rain.

Of course I'm not just talking about the weather here, fellow residents of The Lower Marlborough Whatever The Hell We Call Ourselves Again I Forget.

Anyway, you really don't have to think of me as part of your street, the way I'm a-kilter down here set back from the corner and all. I could almost be the abandoned old farmhouse in the field that gives the neighborhood character.

From these windows I can see more of the lay of the block than any of you can from yours.

Death, death, death, death, death. With a barely-moving tangle of moist verdant background-buzz life all around---all around its head---about to burst forth with who-knows-what, or more nothing.
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fflo

Hello.

CURRENTLY FEATURING
the
Postcard of the Day

(a feature involving a postcard on a day)

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For another postcard thing, see
my old postcard poems tumblr or
its handy archive.

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I'm currently double-posting here & at livejournal. Add me and let me know who you are, and we can read each other's protected posts.

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"What was once thought cannot be unthought."

-- Möbius, The Physicists

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