Beach Sloth

I want you to rock me like the stock market crash of 1929 by Chase Kersey

                A face tattoo is the hardest of core forms of love. It matters that the face tattoo is of another person’s face. That way both faces can age together. See the love wrinkle up. Wood grain must be understood. No day is wasted staring at wood grains. Each grain gave its life for a conference, for a park bench, to live to have things rested on it forever. Life is a beautiful recyclable thing. Guess that’s why some guy is crying all the time. 

                Rain falls. Listen to it. It has something to say.  Understand the patterns of rain. With enough attention these natural sounds can become music. Dance with the pale moon. Make it blush. Let it become a harvest moon, ripe for the picking. 

                Walking behind people is the new awkward. The pace rarely sinks up. One day it is slow, the next fast. No two people have the exact day. People do wear the same outfits but that’s due to a general apathetic sense of style. My style is apathetic. Venus flytraps live in mirrors. This is a metaphor for vanity. Get out of the mirror and get into real life. 

                Bugs die for our feet. Everybody does it. A few bugs suck in a literal, vampire way. Those are the bugs that give all bugs a bad name. Once Chase dies his body will transform into carbon. Sure he thinks he’ll become French fries or flowers but that’s not what is going to happen. Upon Chase’s death a tree will suck up Chase’s carbon and suddenly discover what Chase’s life was like. The tree will cry a single, tree tear better known as sap. For trees are sappy creatures, sad in their stationary position in life. Sap is just the trees trying to communicate with humans, trying to show that they know the pain of suffering, of being stationary in a moving world. 

                 Nasty Chase takes a glass of water from the sun. After all the shining down on Chase, this is how the sun is treated. I find it morally objectionable that anyone would deprave the sun of its precious water. Only a single moment is all the sun needs to quench its thirst. Finally Chase ends it with a reflection of his potential life in France. Some tiny studio houses him as he sits, contemplating his life. 

                This feels warm. It has the impression of singular moments, ideas, preserved in amber and captured in time forever.