Here, outside,
There is the electric shriek
Of cicadas humming.
Dry rattle of palm leaves,
Buzz and whir of leaf blower.
Here, outside,
The sounds of emptiness.
I miss the music,
I miss the Bells of Barcelona,
And the call to prayer in Istanbul.
There is the electric shriek
Of cicadas humming.
Dry rattle of palm leaves,
Buzz and whir of leaf blower.
Here, outside,
The sounds of emptiness.
I miss the music,
I miss the Bells of Barcelona,
And the call to prayer in Istanbul.
4 comments:
I miss the sounds you hear right now.
Heh. Yes. Know what you mean. Grass being greener and everything. Bet you aren't missing the howl of that fucking leaf blower though. What the hell are those things all about?
You know, you're like the 15th person who's mentioned 'the grass is greener' to me. I'm starting to think there is something wrong with me... No clue on leaf-blower front. Sorry.
Apologies for being like everyone else :)
I actually meant it both ways anyway. I was kind of saying that yes the sounds I am hearing outside here also represent good things.
If I could meet the guy who invented the leaf blower I would jam one of those babies up his arse one gorgeous Sunday afternoon and turn it up to eleven... fucker.
Post a Comment