Voices on the Wind Voices in Tribute
Things To Get Done For by Ken Boe Time holds a certain gravity in this place, and things happen. It wants you to believe this, though not too much. The wind comes along and throws a piece of Masonite into the fence shattering it into pieces, while nothing much else seems disturbed but some paint brushes left drying, knocked to the ground, a piece of wind dealt for you, a painting that never happened. A cut in the deck where time runs out with cards not yet painted to your hand. I could stare at those shards forever. That Masonite was too dried out. The squirrels had nested and shite it. Everyone is my friend these days. My life in that place of heavy, but against the muscles I developed working all those odd jobs. I flex against the absurdity; assemble the shards in tempered honor. Nothing is taken for granted. Itís the only proposal I write. Here in the tic of timeís things is the next project to be done for. All it takes is the time to decide thrown up against the fence.