I wrote a piece almost 10 years ago called Playtime is Absorption.
Here it is friends...
In the shadow of a trailer home by the soft glow of an outdoor light bulb, dirty fingertips and wrinkled hands moved along tight strings and disappearing smoke. A man lays on the floor, out cold on a bed of dirt, unconscious and breathing in the desert air. It is neither too late nor too early to pry him off bottle shard. He is left where his spirit commanded him. Outside, he is oblivious. Inside he sees a bird’s wing. It flaps across a fixture of mosquitoes. The night time continues smoothly as planned, smoothly as expected. Playtime is absorption.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
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