Tea, a brimming cup, tucked into the corner on the bottom left. Steam rises from it taking shape: a man shovels snow, a woman shimmies up a coconut palm. A loving mother eats the kids, another mother shops at Sears. A comprehensive display of sexual acts so that no need be disappointed or (worse) consider themselves unusual. A man whittles a stick in the shape of happiness. A baby says, “Why? Why not?” Several people who manage nonetheless to look bored. 1000 acres of prairie, a modest polar region, a homemade scooter. A young man jacks off in a cybercafé, attempting to hide his gigantic penis. The Apostles, the Prophets, the Pointer Sisters. A mosque, temple, church and gurudhwalla, someplace cheap for lunch, someplace where your picture sits on the TV and is even, now and then, kissed.
Continue through the entrance then. Don’t stand all day gaping at the door.
No comments:
Post a Comment