The Path
I live on a path, a path
at the end of the path is an unmarked plot beside a worn out over stuffed chair with little stuffing left for the weary soul. The springs within the chair are pushing through as though a spring growth was the way to a new future.
The scenic tour takes me from the slightly stuffed chair to adjusting the TV antenna, then past the stagnet book collection in the old china cabnet then around the corner past the door the that could be an escape to a receding world...
the path
I live on a path, a path
at the end of the path is an unmarked plot beside a worn out over stuffed chair with little stuffing left for the weary soul. The springs within the chair are pushing through as though new spring growth was the way to a new future.
The scenic tour takes me from the slightly stuffed chair to adjusting the TV antenna, then past the stagnant book collection in the old china cabinet then around the corner past the door that could be an escape to a receding world is my kitchen with a new/used stove that I care for, so that it will care for me as I prepare a new dish for Michelle and I. The stove likes hearing Michelle saying how good supper smells when she comes home from her job as a waitress. The path continues south past the hallway that leads to the restroom, laundry/storage room and Michelle's bedroom where three old chemistry class tables sit in an L shape loaded with my computers, old and used like me. I try to maintain their lives long enough so that I may bend my path into the world of... I have now words to explain the 'Internet' except it is a place where I leave pieces of myself along the path of the internet.
The path is a well worn carpet with a weave of light speckled browns...
I live on a path, a path
at the end of the path is an unmarked plot beside a worn out over stuffed chair with little stuffing left for the weary soul. The springs within the chair are pushing through as though a spring growth was the way to a new future.
The scenic tour takes me from the slightly stuffed chair to adjusting the TV antenna, then past the stagnet book collection in the old china cabnet then around the corner past the door the that could be an escape to a receding world...
the path
I live on a path, a path
at the end of the path is an unmarked plot beside a worn out over stuffed chair with little stuffing left for the weary soul. The springs within the chair are pushing through as though new spring growth was the way to a new future.
The scenic tour takes me from the slightly stuffed chair to adjusting the TV antenna, then past the stagnant book collection in the old china cabinet then around the corner past the door that could be an escape to a receding world is my kitchen with a new/used stove that I care for, so that it will care for me as I prepare a new dish for Michelle and I. The stove likes hearing Michelle saying how good supper smells when she comes home from her job as a waitress. The path continues south past the hallway that leads to the restroom, laundry/storage room and Michelle's bedroom where three old chemistry class tables sit in an L shape loaded with my computers, old and used like me. I try to maintain their lives long enough so that I may bend my path into the world of... I have now words to explain the 'Internet' except it is a place where I leave pieces of myself along the path of the internet.
The path is a well worn carpet with a weave of light speckled browns...
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