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Apr. 17, 2007 A thousand year old man in a hat and a wool coat, and he walks with sunken cheekbones, and he walks there looking across. Signs of the roadside, and signs from the angels. The volume of traffic, and the grayest of days. Trucks are mean. Airplanes flying overhead, coming in for landings, and the light is minimal. It seems everyone stops in this parking lot. There is supposed to be maybe a few cabs, or someone eating their takeout in a car, that is all. This place must be some vortex. Wow, so many people, and the modified mufflers make loud noises. There is trash on the ground, and there is a black bird that grabs something and ascends. I wonder if we will ever ascend. The black bird seems better than the people. He looks better, that’s for sure, and he flies better, and causes less trouble. That is three to one for the black bird. Fly black bird, fly. Streets and industrial corridors. Bleak tough women, and its too bad if they had pretty eyes, or good something or other, because they are not the loving kind. Groups of vast spaces, where the air is brisk. Is that an old place, where the summer light used to be? Ah, at least there was one thing. A stewardess or something close, outside, smoking a cigarette. She has the blouse and the good posture, and the shoes. Three good omens. The ancient man, the black bird, and the airport woman. ------------ Email Brian Michael Barbeito: Brian1750@Hotmail.com Comment on this article here! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com and are not allowed to be posted on other websites. ARTICLE THIEVES WILL BE PROSECUTED! |
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