Hi everyone! Hope you're having a great non-working Monday. Here's a poem, a little bit in homage to Allen G.
Between Heaven and Detroit
I’m not kidding, the fruits started to pulsate,
glow with a violent light. It was like nothing
in my life, like everything, and I swooned,
I fainted, I fell before the altar where I was
at your funeral watching your mother faint.
It was all too much and not enough, a weird
abundance of absence. Before long, I was
back to the produce section where I looked
at all was before me, deciding I wouldn’t have
wanted to eat it anyway no matter what
happened. Outside the snow fell, turning
the color of steel between heaven and Detroit,
gunmetal before it ever hit the frozen ground.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"That the fear of death still owns me, is in its way, a beginning." Fred Exley
Cocktail Hour
Drinking memoir suggestion: Homesick Jenny Lauren
Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Labor Day!
7 comments:
sexopot love u
My Dear Michelle
Such a lovely vigorous and humorous post as always. Dear beautiful gun girl like a Catholic Charlie's Angel, champagne wishes and caivar dreams and a true Bravo!
I somehow get the drift that when you mention fruit it's in a different context than Ginsburg.
But then Ginsburg never knew what mourning or gunmetal gray snow was like either, there was much, in my opinion that Allen never knew about life. Just like so many of his contemporaries, although they did their part to usher in what has now become a routine part of what has become our perception of life.
Never fear death kid it's an old road and a worn out one at that.
The Grouchies endgames burps produces departments!!!--Short bus and Special
Ahh, the tuff Chick ! I hope it is the .45 version.
Nice S&W Michelle,you are most certainly a Texas girl.
annie getcher gun! :)
Great eyes, great nose and lips, great legs.
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