Wednesday, February 23, 2005

OH, SAM

My frail perspective on those collosal orange things certainly cannot do them the justice that our Letterman can do them. Honestly, the only way that they really can be experienced or should be experienced is either 1) in person, listening to the monstrous things snapping in the breeze or 2) through the eyes of a celebrity. In a way I aspire to be both the wind and the superstar. But look what all this art and all this crowded cyberspace as done for our relationship. Over the years we've ebbed and flowed (Christo's gates, apparently, are also in verisimilitude of a river of people) and now we've been reduced to leaving little typed notes to one another like deer might leave their droppings on the trail for their long lost loves to come on by and sniff and grind into the dirt. What am I suggesting? That we're long lost loves? That we should smell one another's poop? Yes and yes. No, only that I enjoy the little remnants you leave behind so that I know you've visited. It's much less lonely that way.

3 comments:

Noodles said...

Ah Sale Bete. In my eyes you are both the wind and a superstar. You are the wind beneath my winds and obviously a sports superstar! AND, I think saffron would be a lovely color on you!

lolo said...

yes, and then she could stand in airports and offer the path the inner peace and enlightenment to all passerby for 2 shillings, then parade down avenues calling "Hare Krishna, hare krishna, krishna krishna, hare, hare." Those cursed cultists have ruined saffron for me eternally.

Anonymous said...

who are these people? have you found others like yourself out there? i hadn't even imagined that...

anyway...

love the poop.