Sunday, February 12, 2012

More smoke and mirrors.

A week in black and white with a fox called Colour. Blood orange thunderclouds at Fisantekraal. Shepard's warning. Our hero is bitten by a snake. Thank goodness he has a rubber leg. The snake wrangler drinks Oros. The tribe is armed with plastic guns. Stones on the runway. The cobweb machine works. (In Germany it is bigger and better.) Every night, Diane Arbus dreams. Wish on an eyelash, snow in Paris. And my mother strides across the mantlepiece,
nineteen forever.




4 comments:

arcadia said...

Hi Lily. Hoe gaan dit? Ek dink aan jou.

The Sourcerer said...

dankie...
party dae rof, ander minder. jy weet mos. en, by the way, dis nooit te vroeg vir 'n glas wyn nie - baie geluk!
X

Marie said...

"And every day my mother strides..."

Beautiful.

A champagne cork chair collection now? :-)

The Sourcerer said...

the chairs from long ago... difficult to throw away.
ah Marie - I'm sorry I missed saying so long. but you're home and safe with your furred one and the not so.
xx