My favorite pen. I found it after months of hiding, picked it up & scrambled through the room for paper sat and closed my eyes I always close my eyes before letting the point fall on the paper like a needle into the grooves of a record and words flowed out words, letters, symbols, ideas, emotions I scratched them out and smiled, I thought of you and enjoyed the experience and knew it best to put it out and into the universe I wrote without trying, I just wrote images of Arabian jasmine cloud forests sweat stained collars pink factory light the familiar scent of sulfur hovering over I-75 that reminds me of home. Live jazz between the walls of Eastern market holes where stars form constellations but have no names and Yes, it really moved me. |
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It Really Moved Meposted Dec 13, 2009 3:14 PM by Ulysses Newkirk [ updated Dec 28, 2009 3:27 AM ] |
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