Monday, May 16, 2016

Field notes


My mother a mammoth jenny, carrying in her saddle bags my tears and broken teeth.

My grandmother a hoverfly wasp looking for the opportunity to sting my teenage tongue, I thought she wanted to attack me because of all the sweets I ate(wasps, they do like sweet things in life ).

My grandfather a cloned ram, run before his shepherd's crook breaks your pineal gland and you will never be enlightened.



No comments:

Post a Comment

Blog Archive