Outside the wind is tearing the dirt from the ground - the sound of whistles reminds me of screaming audiences and balloons being squeezed of their air
And my mind wanders back tot he TV and the man on the screen is riffing quickly:
She's like a walking talking Stephen Hawking
She's brainier than Kurt Cobain's garage ceiling
I think about the space between the glass in the window and the seal in the frame - gaps in time - that moment when word hits the air and then settles on the ground like ashes
Here is a joke
Here is the pause between sound waves and atoms
There's lots of sexual positions named for superheores - the Spiderman - the Superman
The other night a guy said Batman and I asked him what is the Batman
He said it's when you kill her parents
There is the sound of clicking out int he street - rain on the glass that is actually not water but grains of sand lifting themselves in flight
There is the moment of dissonance - cognitive - otherwise - the trembling of muscles as they turn your neck to see the darkness outside be opaque in itself
- The jokes are Jimmy Carr's
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