placement 3 Jul 14, 2008

--LESS--

        Amazing, how quickly we forget.          Entering, The Voice is soft in my mind,
     Coming up from a dream,immediately          ~ com e to me ~  i am pulled down hall-
   the ordinary world consumes.Immediately.      ways, ever farther from the cold salt
 When you are washed onto the shores, it is      mist and more often there is the musk
the same.    You                                 of old wood--&
forget the sea;                                  furniture long
you forget your                                  dormant. At the
old life; all y                                  windows the ap-
you want is a f                                  proaching storm is flinging drop-lets
fire and a cooked                                &flash--CR--RACK--aa-RRruum--aa-ruum--
meal. Nothing                                    an open window,rainsmell,and by it, a
cures just-tossed                                desk.A Clothbound Book,i discover, it
-out-of-the-sea                                  is a journal.&
like hot soup&                                   dated   before
idle talk.                                       The End.   The
                                                 Hand is Flowery
Above the door is written : "if You don t ' h     ,the letters delicate,as if they 1st
 have any thing nice to Say , don t ' Say Any        were song.  & so  i sat, in the
   Thing At All."  A strange place, surely               chair provided,&The Voice,aloud
        ,to find after so many dunes                           read to me:    --MORE--


Linked from: placement-2