Saturday, May 2, 2009

PULP FICTION

I walk amidst cardboard cutouts. I liked them so much better in the early days when they were viable, living and breathing trees of spruce, oak and pine-before the compression, adhesives and paint.

I walk among them until it is their time to return to the nurturing earth, finally free, yet still confined in boxes made of spruce, oak and pine.

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