Soon I'm Going To Turn Into A Dream, Then You'll Be In Real Trouble...
About this Entry
Posted by: TheReturnerofRazorburn

Visit TheReturnerofRazorburn's Xanga Site

Original: 9/27/2007 12:38 AM
Views: 16
Comments: 0
eProps: 0

Read Comments
Post a Comment
Back to Your Xanga Site


Thursday, September 27, 2007

Kafka called me an oaf

 In an old orchard, I found a small key.  There was no lock to be found and there were no doors near by at all.  I sat on the stump of a tree cut down by the ages.  In a moment I was asleep and dreaming.  This is what I dreamed:

Outside of a crushed barbershop with a fallen pole and crumbled corner I was waiting for someone.  This person I have never met, but I stood there with balloons for them when they arrived.  Heat oozed from the streets and the walls of the small ruins around me.  The streets were bare and covered in ash, dust and sand while a few wild plants sat in unpleasantly aromatic dew and dirty soil.  By the time the person was supposed to arrive the balloons had faded out of existence and my watch read 29:49.  I know I knew they knew to meet at noon after the new moon.  Yet somehow something seemed to slip to the side of their mind. 
An hour and a minute or a second and a day slide beyond to when the stars appear in the sky above this ever still solace in the desolate street.  I look down and notice that there is a boy near the corner.  He called me over and called me oafish. He was ten years old and told me to be careful.  That moment a bee flew down my throat and I had to swallow a stinger.  I felt like I had died by arrows and I wondered if the floundering fellow would appear.  The rest of the scene disappeared as the pain overwhelmed my senses.  A silent scream came from my palms and toes.  My chest was a bundle of kindling and the killer bee kindly started a fire in my chest.  The wind passed through my eyes and down my spine to the center of the spindle and my fine fibers were plucked individually then strummed in unison.  So I died by the hands of this boy named Crow. 

A leaf fell on my head and I came home safely.  The pain still there but empty of the real.  Key in hand, I looked for the goblet at my side and noticed honeydew nectar had collected there.  The orchard sat me up and sent me on my way with an apple and a kiss.  By morning I had forgotten it all.  I forgot it all. I forgot.

 Posted 9/27/2007 12:38 AM - 16 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments

Give eProps or Post a Comment

Choose Identity
(?)
 
Give eProps (?)
Post a Comment
Add Link | Preview HTML comment help 
Profile Pic:
Default  |  Choose »  (?)



Back to TheReturnerofRazorburn's Xanga Site!
Note: your comment will appear in TheReturnerofRazorburn's local time zone:
GMT -05:00 (Eastern Standard - US, Canada)