yeah.
i think it's the idea that i can custom tailor those tight paper pants.
check the headless-handless-hairless-hommes-type teleport:
neighbors,
i'm a sucker for making stuff out of scraps.
garbage art is alive and well at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
and every time it's happening,
it just bums me out a little bit more.
what?
yeah.
if i can't make something beautiful out of something ugly,
i'd at least like to make something interesting out of not much at all.
that's real.
the thing of it is-
when it's all really happening,
and that's not much at all, and what little there is stays ugly?
hard styles abound when there's no beauty or interest.
turns out,
in really real life,
i've got nothing going on.
that's no joke.
so i'll cut out some snug paper trousers and call it a day.
*
the leaves are falling in full force now.
foliage is a thing in new england.
people flip the F* out over trees getting ready to play dead.
nothing like watching summertime die to bring about good feelings.
y'know?
and the nights are crisp,
which is a sharp-sounding snappy way to say it's cold.
there're pumpkins for sale,
and apples for picking,
and less and less hours of daylight to see it all by.
the bridge between grey areas is lit with leaves as torches,
on the trees, and on the ground.
it's getting darker.
all of it.
today is the day;
never quiet, never soft.....
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