now most of the roommates have woken and somehow a cleaning project no one had imagined would happen when they went to sleep has begun, it is Saturday afternoon, they are all grad students at an elite university, and, as the project develops they attempt to establish some rules--things will be left for the next grad students, vinegar will clean the wood but make the wood smell like vinegar--its all in reasonably good spirits--but this is how things happen, buildings get built, pyramids, someone goes to sleep and wakes and its time to do that, its not rational, its not planned, its a context in which to be logical, to flex that run of scales--like clouds, the arguments, rain--outside the impossible last remaining hostas and topiary in the square foot that is nevertheless fenced in because once a fence around that tree made a certain sense, out of the air, a season...
Posted on: Sat, 08 Jun 2013 22:37:29 +0000
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