DUAL installation at AWarfare
I've been thinking about everyday objects as projectiles. Shrapnel is not that different from a pile of broken glass from a television screen. At 110 miles per hour a lawn chair is an eight-cornered metal-frame sail. Freeway signs could twist south with the center of the storm, whipping around, being sucked into my neighbor's house. The gigantic, jagged L would whine and wheeze. The paranoia and angst of waiting for a natural disaster is not very different from waiting to be be deployed, someone told me.
I walked around the block in Lindale Park. There were about 65 houses and maybe 18 1/2 were boarded up in anticipation of the Eisenhower Administration. One guy only gets a half point 'cause he forgot the whole front of his house. The humidity is sick.
A garden hose in someone's yard looked perfectly capable of flying in a 20-foot arc in the air and smashing the ranch house's lace curtained front window. At the shady club down Fulton they were unloading plywood, even though the windows had been boarded up and painted the same color as the building years ago. I might bring a shopping cart across the street into my garage. Just so it doesn't bash through my garage door at 3 in the morning, with a loud bash not piercing the metal, but opening the room to the rain and tree debris. The eye will be here at 7 am. I'm listening to Hungry Eyes.
I walked around the block in Lindale Park. There were about 65 houses and maybe 18 1/2 were boarded up in anticipation of the Eisenhower Administration. One guy only gets a half point 'cause he forgot the whole front of his house. The humidity is sick.
A garden hose in someone's yard looked perfectly capable of flying in a 20-foot arc in the air and smashing the ranch house's lace curtained front window. At the shady club down Fulton they were unloading plywood, even though the windows had been boarded up and painted the same color as the building years ago. I might bring a shopping cart across the street into my garage. Just so it doesn't bash through my garage door at 3 in the morning, with a loud bash not piercing the metal, but opening the room to the rain and tree debris. The eye will be here at 7 am. I'm listening to Hungry Eyes.
Posts
0 comments:
Post a Comment