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needles needling needlessly with little thread... or much of anything else...

(foolish dribbles to be written at uncertain times, on an irregular basis, from uncertain sections of the ever expending universe, and from whatever dimension I-We-Us-Them might find ourselves/ myself in …)

Sunday, March 27, 2005

TURNING 


I noticed a bicycle wheel
turning on to itself
as if in mid-wind
underneath the carcass of the dead car
alone the last to follow through
quietly
incredibly
so without verve and simply turning
onto itself as if an afterthought.
Posted by: François Pointeau / 20:51
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