fire walk with me

Picture of the Day
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July 16, 2000

ewe ewe ewe! Stoop sitting 4:30 a.m. the party never ends but if I make it home by 5 I can wake Sarah to watch the lunar eclipse so I ride like a butterfly--or were those feathers on my grandmother's dress? They could have been eyelashes. Like a bat I flap down deserted streets. We watch the shadow of the earth with us on it nibble the moon down to half its size, binoculars and vanilla ice cream, barefoot beneath a lightening sky. Lunch at The Dock, or was it beer for breakfast and an argument, Monte's new pliers and patterns in wire? Either way, all is forgiven at the lake, a Hi-Bounce Pinky for 50¢, Generation Wet, humans play fetch, an ice cream sandwich. There's a time every Sunday when time seems to stop, friends around a table not saying much, ready for bed but the sun is still up and just down the street new energies gather, another turn of the wheel, drums & heat, the moon veiled by leaves. We're there to watch--as if we needed a reason--a goat go up in smoke. Like us, it stands longer than anyone expected before slowly collapsing in a heap. Or was that just me?