Monday, July 25, 2011

The Room Where Summer Passes.

Well I have been doing a lot more of nothing lately. I started this:


Based on this photo:







































From this groovy ad campaign featured here.

And then I drafted this:

At The Close

The sister leaves on the train
As afternoon fog crests the hills
I think of you
Buried in the years now termed “ago”
I buried you again
By a river in Russia
And sat on the bridge
To mourn
Oh, but all this I have forgotten
I do not think of it
On the way home
Or falling to sleep
In the room where summer passes

All the while listening to this:


and this:


and never ever doing my homework. 

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