Saturday, January 03, 2009


"...Fate’s hammer inches above the anvil of our head,

or failing that, still find among the cartoon stars its
blow brings forth
our own brief comet..."

From "In the Kingdom of Perpetual Repair" by Kevin Stein


Dale said...

Something particularly desolate about this.

lowenkopf said...

The unkindest cut of all--the trash container. This, on the other hand, is quite splendid in its evocation of an Annie Proulx-like landscape of being out there against the elements, alone except for some horses and chickens and maybe a milk cow.

What an ironic pull of nostalgia for this city boy who scarcely knows how to feed much less milk a cow.

Glad you're back on the job, staples and all.

Granny J said...

I'd say that Lori specializes in desolation, Texas-style.