Fig shaped leaves sway against the backdrop of a late summer sky
pushed by the buzzing wings of insects and a warm determined breeze.
There is a constant hiss from highway traffic rushing to where it needs to get,
accompanied by the varied sounds of workers and power tools, a radio and cicadas.
The radio whispers a quiet discourse on black erotica as I attempt to keep the eyes open
and ears closed to the hammering of steel in the background.
A jet soars overhead, closely followed by another and another, each with its own
signature drone which must clearly identify it’s maker, Boeing, Lockheed, Airbus, etc..
Who cares?
The tinkling sound of a worker fumbling through a glass jar to find the necessary screw suddenly ceases.
The object is retrieved and the drill whizzes briefly once again as another jet soars past.
The erotica authors, moderator and guests continue to express views.
"A more open sexuality is a way to achieve a more relaxed society."
Though not of particular interest, the ears prick up at an occasional phrase,
then quickly recoil at the squealing protest of wood cleft by driven steel.
A loud gurgling helicopter lumbers slowly across the sky.
At noon, an agile dragonfly glides past making no sound whatsoever.
Friday, September 4, 2009 at 12:32pm
