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I sat in an obscure local library for a second it reminded me of an assisted living facility a kind of base camp I counted them – six distinctly those senior men with battle scars and sun spots that were earned on family trips now forgotten each had a story and a long life almost gone now they sat quietly inside their gray hollow heads a few had discolored Goodwill hats that nobody else wanted cheap and tired looking slurping up the papers news three inches from their **** face, they were clotted blue while the chapel asylum and town monument across the street beheld us there under the same beautiful sky my green and brown bivouac suddenly raged about my own circular inventory that will come like theirs when what is left of my forest is no different than anyone else.
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Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
The Library Men
I sat in an obscure local library for a second it reminded me of an assisted living facility a kind of base camp I counted them – six distinctly those senior men with battle scars and sun spots that were earned on family trips now forgotten each had a story and a long life almost gone now they sat quietly inside their gray hollow heads a few had discolored Goodwill hats that nobody else wanted cheap and tired looking slurping up the papers news three inches from their **** face, they were clotted blue while the chapel asylum and town monument across the street beheld us there under the same beautiful sky my green and brown bivouac suddenly raged about my own circular inventory that will come like theirs when what is left of my forest is no different than anyone else.
william-marshall
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Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
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