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Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita.

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

And We Were Bombarded With Shells Of Water All The Rest Of The Day.

It rained during my meeting. The water collected in the folds of the umbrella above where we sat. These pools would grow larger, sagging down like a diseased beast until they burst and water shot down upon some random location. These sporadic attacks continued for the duration of the twenty minutes.

What a thing it is to speak of poetry while liters of water explode around one.
Posted by Henry Kvinge at 9:08 PM

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Blog Archive

  • ▼  2007 (59)
    • ▼  October (25)
      • Saint Peter's.
      • World Champions: 2006-2007
      • When Scabia Invades.
      • Notes from Orvieto.
      • And We Were Bombarded With Shells Of Water All The...
      • Rice #2
      • A Melancholy Light.
      • Non-potable.
      • Nine Generations.
      • The Walk Back.
      • On the Collecting of Beauty (Creative Writing Assi...
      • Wrestling Down Beauty (Creative Writing Assignment...
      • Ambushed in Il Gesù (Creative Writing Assignment #11)
      • "And in a church..." (Creative Writing Assignment ...
      • A Distant Roar.
      • The Tracks.
      • Two Cities
      • A Dialogue Between Two Cloister Visitors
      • Disfigured by Light (Creative Writing Assignment #12
      • A View from the Tower.
      • Rice Between the Cracks.
      • The Marshes of Rome.
      • Postcard from Piazza Navona III
      • Postcard from Piazza Navona II
      • Postcard from Piazza Navona I
    • ►  September (27)
    • ►  August (6)
    • ►  April (1)

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Henry Kvinge
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