"There's not much doubt in any of our minds that no complete idea springs fully formed from our brow,
needing only a handshake and a signature on the contract to send it off into the world to make twenty-five billion dollars.
The germ of the idea grows slowly..." - Walt Kelly

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

A living room

Each deep breath is only a draft,
a tickling of hairs on the backs of our necks,
a phantom insect crawling in circles.
Each laden word is only a fraying edge of the rug,
spooling off into its own consequences
and choking the vacuum we've earned -
nothing will come up clean, tonight.

Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
The Dodos, Confidence

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