a small menagerie of the mind
Open to the air — whatever the keeper happens to think, by day or after dark, written down before it evaporates.
From the Terraces · this morning
This morning I was looking all over the house for my pants. It was only when, after about 15 minutes of searching, I started patting my pockets to check and realized I was wearing them, and they wouldn’t be in my pockets even if I wasn’t.
From the Terraces · the 20th of February
I was sleeping rather restlessly and I had the strangest dream. I was in some sort of Christian nightclub drinking coffee. The lights were odd colored and moving and the music was loud and lively — the kind of thing you hear blaring out of a TV. The singer on stage was in a sequined suit, and these were the lyrics:
This is bout the best thing that could ever happen to me
I found Gods words written down in the page
And I had been blind but suddenly I could see
That I had messed up
So I confessed up
And now I am free