The rEd...
July and August. When Salt Lake City melts.
The streets are liquid. They flow down the hills, so it’s hard to walk. They stick to your feet and hold you.
You watch the sun stand still in the sky. The mountains swell from the heat. Taller everyday until they hit the ceiling and fall inward, vanishing. The tree grow faces and silently whistle at you, hoping for you attention.
It isn’t so much repetition as redundancy. There is a difference between 100 degrees and 101 perhaps.
When it finally rains. The world becomes solid. Things stop moving so they begin to happen. You wonder what’s next.
The streets are liquid. They flow down the hills, so it’s hard to walk. They stick to your feet and hold you.
You watch the sun stand still in the sky. The mountains swell from the heat. Taller everyday until they hit the ceiling and fall inward, vanishing. The tree grow faces and silently whistle at you, hoping for you attention.
It isn’t so much repetition as redundancy. There is a difference between 100 degrees and 101 perhaps.
When it finally rains. The world becomes solid. Things stop moving so they begin to happen. You wonder what’s next.
Labels: Mark
posted by M S Martinez at 8/03/2006 08:46:00 AM
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