growin' (maybe) |
accusation denial denali. I go about things the wrong way. more than meets the eye. my head, your shelter. a sense of wonder only slightly used. frankly I've never been able to remember if I have a Owen Wilson's nose or just a sharp self-irony. so long and thanks for all the fish. "My hovercraft ..." (pantomimes puffing a cigarette) "... is full of eels." (pretends to strike a match) |
My eyes are vague blue, like the sky, and change all the time; they are indiscriminate but fleeting, entirely specific and disloyal, so that no one trusts me. I am always looking away. Or again at something after it has given me up. It makes me restless and that makes me unhappy, but I cannot keep them still. If only I had grey, green, black, brown, yellow eyes; I would stay at home and do something. It’s not that I am curious. On the contrary, I am bored but it’s my duty to be attentive, I am needed by things as the sky must be above the earth. And lately, so great has theiranxiety become, I can spare myself little sleep.
