Security
Cam
What’s the point, Wednesday beckoned. As my dead German teacher uttered, jogging.
They’ve got the spooky eyes, standard orientation to
truth. Pyramid of monitors covering the
store,
Minding the pavement beyond shag floor. Not scrutinized here, the wind winding
through the reeds through the grasses, Permian permafrost to blue, it’s a
surrealistic style embedded in the embroidery of mountainous snout. We pulled the video and the team member had as
found nicked the sunglasses. Equinox thistle breath. Sweep up
those maggots, bleach in the eye. The
willows don’t you know what you’ve got here, monitoring ceaseless stopped in
the river of scotch broom, waste flora.
I’ve seen the dark squirrels go by, rain isolates.
By Jonathan Falk
June 20, 2014
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