Sleepy E dot comma

I am walking across a soccer/football field in Germany. I am lost and am only following cardinal directions, or what I am assuming to be cardinal directions. Halfway across the field, I am met by someone I think I know. I am asked where I am going. The field shifts to an entryway to a library. I state I really don’t know where I am going, only that I am going. My friend tells me that I am heading in the wrong direction and offers to guide me. We are back out on the field again, no library anywhere. We walk back in the direction from where I was coming from, down some broken concrete steps that are being grown over by the turf. Through the chain-link opening and out into a tree-covered parking lot, where the sun is as if a storm has just passed by: light peering strongly through the leaves.

We’re in a large venue. There are seats going ornately right up to the ceiling. We were just there to meet with friends before getting back on the road to __________ and stayed a while to watch the opening act, which at this point is rather vaporous. Everyone in our group is getting ready to leave as the second act begins. This is a large troupe led by two women who begin the act high above the stage in a strange embrace that keeps them both from falling while their arms and legs can slowly interact with their surroundings as they slowly lower themselves down the overworked molding along the edge of the stage. My party leaves, but I stay behind to watch this strange act. They crab walk across the stage floor, the woman higher licking at a growth coming out of the lower woman’s ankle. The growth looks very much like a tongue itself; reacting to the attention it is receiving. They unwind from each other as their cohorts come out on stage playing mid-tempo folk music. I suddenly have a guitar that I’ve been holding for some time, so place it in the seat next to me. I realize I have more than just the guitar, so go to my car to unload everything. Instead, I go back through the space and into a back room that is filled with giant pink plastic bass saxophones, all lying on their backs, with their bells high in the air.

When the cabbage is bent
By the wants of the world

The horsebucket holds
The wholest oats

Monked

Ivan at his last day
Ivan at 70

drai

“As a critiquer, I think all cell phone photography looks shitty, like its from, like, the 80s.”

wall eyered

“Commerce is always a vulgar huckster, but, you know, art is a different matter.” – Bruce Sterling