kalischild

Honey, please don't show up in the desert looking like Feral Boy from The Road Warrior, Dreds are dreds, chunkies are chunkies, and never the twain shall meet.

Our last two posts made me think of Pablo Neruda:

"I want to tell you the ocean knows this, that life in its
jewel boxes
is endless as the sand, impossible to count, pure,
and among the blood-colored grapes time has made the
petal
hard and shiny, made the jellyfish full of light
and untied its knot, letting its musical threads fall
from a horn of plenty made of infinite mother-of-pearl.

I am nothing but the empty net which has gone on ahead
of human eyes, dead in those darknesses,
of fingers accustomed to the triangle, longitudes
on the timid globe of an orange.

I walked around as you do, investigating
the endless star,
and in my net, during the night, I woke up naked,
the only thing caught, a fish trapped inside the wind."

Think about it next time you're out there.


[Edited on Apr 26, 2004 8:53PM]