Friday, April 9, 2010

Untitled


It's the night.
Rows of commercial living are asleep,
Wound in cocoons of fancy bed sets,
Sprawled on vintage wood frames,
Like butterflies on nimble limbs.
The transformation happens all around as the world turns
One day to the next
But the people on the inside stay the same.


"And they're all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same."

4 comments:

  1. Short! good! great! Love the picture.

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  2. Thanks! Do you get the meaning and stuff? Did you CLICK the LINK?

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  3. I just found the link. Cool!

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