Friday, March 11, 2011

hungerford house

there's a shadow the shape of a giraffe cast on the hill behind my house by one of the trees we used to have a playdeck built on
i'm conditioned to notice improbable figures amongst the shadows of this hill, for childhood nights whence sleeps were evasive
hardly deprived or annoyed me, for the grandiose and endlessly provactive hill often a silhouetted circus generously provided

as it were i've been lying in bed for probably three hours; i lost my notion of time beginning the day after i became unemployed
john waters the soothesayer leads me unfalteringly over and through what is by now a collective imaginations' stomping grounds
moments shared in a kaliedoscope of memorable emotions like old fashioned slide show pictures blockishly plop before my mind's eye
sporadically restless i might rearrange my limbs or alternate which side of my face pressures the pillow and mightily ask aloud:
help me sleep. i clarify the need in case my requests for vivid dreams were answered in an especially clever cryptic manner; Hence!
(perhaps) the single gig of a giggle once per an hour on recollected sight of whichever dear friend of mine laughs once upon a time
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