sarah fay ♥

.your voice changes pitch and blurs, like a storm carries a ship.

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  • "

    the old folks play a game
    in the park overlooking the sea
    shoving markers across cement
    with wooden sticks.
    four play, two on each side
    and 18 or 20 others sit in
    the sun and watch
    I notice this as I move
    towards the public facility
    as my car is being repaired.

    an old cannon sits in the park
    rusted and useless.
    six or seven sailboats ride
    the sea below.

    I finish my duty
    come out
    and they are still playing.

    one of the women is heavily rouged
    wearing false eyelashes and smoking
    a cigarette.
    the men are very thin
    very pale
    wear wristwatches that hurt
    their wrists.

    the other woman is very fat
    and giggles
    each time a score is made

    some of them are my age.

    they disgust me
    the way they wait for death
    with as much passion
    as a traffic signal.

    these are the people who believe in advertisements
    these are the people who buy dentures on credit
    these are the people who celebrate holidays
    these are the people who have grandchildren
    these are the people who vote
    these are the people who have funerals

    these are the dead
    the smog
    the stink in the air
    the lepers.

    these are almost everybody

    seagulls are better
    seaweed is better
    dirty sand is better

    if I could turn that old cannon
    on them
    and make it work
    I would.

    they disgust me.

    Bukowski, traffic signals (via fromtheinsight)

    (Source: manifold-curiosity)

  • June 6, 2012

    1 year ago

    1. sarahfay reblogged this from manifold-curiosity
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