[-empyre-] start of july......directions

mez breeze netwurker at gmail.com
Thu Jul 17 06:44:38 EST 2008

On Thu, Jul 17, 2008 at 12:02 AM, Angela Ferraiolo <aferraiolo at gmail.com>

> 1. With the brakes chewed, their front axel pops over the planters. And
> with a spooling swerve they crash their van past the front porch into a mud
> thatched oak. (JN)
> 2. "Now its your turn," Whistler laughs. "I think she's good for one more."
> The way his left eye bulged still bothers Denim, but he knows better than to
> say anything, especially when Whistler is in this kind of mood. (AK)
> 3. But they were car poor. Such high tops, as in shoes. Not Whistler's
> shoes as he is shoe rich. Jeans as names and the birds, those moody fear
> mongers, can lift the trees, such bark heavy alarms. (JN)
> 4. the van's headlights screened by the mud from the oak their
> electric light washing over the walk the porch the house itself unlit
> empty the street almost stubbornly dark the moon divided the stars
> fracturing in the now cracked glass of the van's windshield their
> reflection faintly lighting shards of glass splinters of the front
> porch the cracked pottery of the ruined planters suburbia's uniform
> order cancelled now like a series of bad checks until finally the
> headlights went out too a door down the street opening and then
> slamming not followed by footsteps but only by a more complete silence
> the night pushing on Whistler beginning to perceive the low rush of
> air entering and leaving his lungs the silhouette of Denim's face a
> distant curve that slid lower as Whistler strained to lift his head by
> degrees by inches forward skyward up causing the moon to scatter
> deliriously across the crazed glass stretching dilating revolving and
> then inverting again as incapable Whistler fell back staring into
> shadow unable to quit listening to the now flat growing unbearable
> silence of the night where he could sense an approach of some kind of
> outcome indifferent unnameable yet as certain as dawn and he thought
> (af)

5...his  synth_suit. all p[l]ocked.mar[c]ked + r[l]e[i]s[ure]in bound. no
crash was programmed  4 this session!?

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