SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
Accepting Offers - Tuesday, Sept. 26, 2017
Indian/Polish Wedding - Thursday, Sept. 21, 2017
The Builder - Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2017
Rupert Part II - Sunday, Sept. 10, 2017


Friday, Jul. 16, 2004 @ 4:08 pm
Figuring



Salt marsh off Richmond


From one roadside weed to another, another wayside attraction.

Walking through the waysides of the city, heat in the eastside, sweating through gastown. A woman leans out of the hotel window, her breasts hidden in the flowers tangled in the windowbox. Her eyes wild, high, beautiful crazy. Should I be scared, to be alone down here, on such a hot restless night?

You're a hard girl to figure out.

Look at me, look at me. I'm lost in a world of suburban wildflowers. Suburban mediocre life. Hours upon hours of mice, repetative commute. Snip tails, collect blood, red blood on beige sawdust, heat and humidity, dizzy with a thousand mice rustling around me. What am I doing here?

I haven't figured myself out.


Roots | Shoots