Thursday, 20 August 2015

buzzards, toads and gazing navels, 20th August 2015

to fade, to fade, to fade away, to slip outside and not return until you find another day that fits much better than the one you left, that fits you like  glove......... what happens when you're no longer sure where you end and the world begins?......... what happens when you skin feel most unlike?.......... the lines are blurred... become also absurd.... colours slip and merge into each other make difference irrelevant...... is this enlightenment?..... projection?..... madness?........ dementia?....... worried if you touch something your hand might fall right through it........ and if it did would you follow and if you did what would you find?......... or would you still be where you started but on the other side... a reflection deflected and balanced on a trick of the light....... should a sleight of hand slightly catch you off your guard and make you turn and turn until you're, suddenly, back where you began wondering what, if anything at all, happened just then.......... can't force a moment on a moment, such an overlay would self-destruct that moment.... obliterate.........I suppose this is what is known as vanishing up yourself!......... I remember the first time in a spring I came across a toad turned inside out, actually turned inside out...... I surmised something must have done this, especially as toads aren't known for philosophising or navel-gazing as we do...... eventually I found out it was buzzards... yes buzzards!.... taking advantage just at this time of year when toads amass across woodland rides heading to ponds with one singular thing on their mind, procreating....... the buzzards see this as a moving larder, but as toady skin is utterly inedible even to a buzzard they, well, you can imagine.....

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