Listening for the words in a quiet corner of the night. The fiction, poetry, and photography of Jason Evans.
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
The Shed
i spent some time in the shed behind the house with the perfume of mildew and crooked rot but just enough roof and wall to make me small
there's a hugeness in being small or more precisely, overlooked with the reminder of mildew and refusal to rot but just enough grief to hatch my belief
is it possible that is is somehow about that fellow you sometimes analyze, that serial-type freak guy? i love how you deal with him from time to time... this little piece reminded me of him somehow.
7 comments:
a shed? maybe. life? definitely!
The hugeness of being small. That I can relate to. Now I wish them who were huge could realize how small they really are.
Such a lonely piece... like a frightened childhood...
love,
me
I love this! It goes perfectly with the weather today-which may sound odd, but if you felt the weather, you'd understand.
I'd rather be in the majority; I'd rather be overlooked; I'm hungrier that way.
Shadow, very true.
Walking Man, the only way is to make them small. I've knocked a few a peg or two. Or at least held my ground.
PixieDust, you're right. That's how I saw it. And it was really great to see you! I've been reading your posts.
Oddyoddo13, sensation was a strong part of this one, so it doesn't seem strange.
JR, there are certainly benefits.
is it possible that is is somehow about that fellow you sometimes analyze, that serial-type freak guy?
i love how you deal with him from time to time...
this little piece reminded me of him somehow.
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