March 26th, 2010 / 12:36 pm
Excerpts
Evelyn Hampton
Excerpts
Tree for Friday
It’s Friday. Have a wonderful description of trees.
When I’m surrounded by trees, a condition I’ve sought out pretty persistently throughout my life I think the thing I might like the most about them is this whisper like all the hair of the world passing through the tunnel of one single breath – if that is a form of percussion. This irregular hiss of trees and wind. I think it is my mother. And I am her son, and you are my dog.
from “Protect Me You” by Eileen Myles.
Tags: Eileen Myles, trees
That’s beautiful. Wow. Thank you.
That’s beautiful. Wow. Thank you.
Brilliant, thanks for this. Another tree-y, tunnel-y beauty: “We bump down a weedy trail through a moss-hung tunnel beneath the trees. Big white magnolia flowers hanging low enough to hit out truck hood burst apart when we drive by the branches, scattering leaves and long white blossoms that slap like hands against the glass. From inside it is a wonder, with spiders and speckled emerald lizards falling all over and our dogs straining and snapping at stuff in the back.” From “Wet” by William Tester.
Brilliant, thanks for this. Another tree-y, tunnel-y beauty: “We bump down a weedy trail through a moss-hung tunnel beneath the trees. Big white magnolia flowers hanging low enough to hit out truck hood burst apart when we drive by the branches, scattering leaves and long white blossoms that slap like hands against the glass. From inside it is a wonder, with spiders and speckled emerald lizards falling all over and our dogs straining and snapping at stuff in the back.” From “Wet” by William Tester.
Kind of flowery and gay but good.
Kind of flowery and gay but good.
“And I am her son, and you are my dog.”
Im with the big dogs now, little puppy.
“And I am her son, and you are my dog.”
Im with the big dogs now, little puppy.