Thursday, February 22, 2007

"Sometimes when I'm sitting I look out of my eyes as if they were an opening of a cave near the top of a mountain. My face becomes a rock face. My skull is a dome. My mouth and ears are other entrances--breath is the wind-- and my nose is like the nose of one the figures on Mt. Rushmore."
---"Lincoln's? ... Is your hair trees, grass or moss? Or is the top of your head exposed to the thin atmosphere's cosmic rays: alternately frozen then sunbaked?"
"I haven't thought about that...but my arms, legs and knees are foothills and my fingers, hands, feet and toes are rocks and boulders that've tumbled into the valleys below."
---"Sometimes I picture myself as the world's tallest building which just happens to be at the center of the world. The very spot on the earth around which everything and everone revolves. My eyes are the windows of the penthouse suite, my nose is the ventilation shaft, my mouth is a loudspeaker broadcasting to those below, and my ears are radio antennas. ... There's always a party going on somewhere in my building. The residents are never completely at rest. ... When I'm really into it my high-rise becomes the fulcrum upon which all the stars and galaxies in the universe are balanced."

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