Aperçus of Entertainment

Stomp wagon sirens burn the existence of the smiling

Ethan Switch - Wednesday, 25 October, 2006 - 18:59:37 - print it raw

Crushed underfoot, twigs and unknown growth of the forest sprouting up from nowhere. Fashioning a rough new hewn of a landscape, the sudden thrush into the marsh kicks out the stragglers. Onto fronds larger than themselves the children in this find more comfort in the green of the leaves than they do of the arms of their parents.

Those that stand and remain at least.

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Crash and beg in a dream backyard

Ethan Switch - Wednesday, 18 October, 2006 - 22:10:27 - print it raw

Serfs on the refrain wave at the hand, severed by the path they have come to know only since yesterday.

"Good bye," they said, all weary and tired from the expense and expanse that has engulfed and enveloped them like letters to America. Where there is not quite enough postage to cover the freight costs, but enough to curry the favour of the teller behind the counter.

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Engines die scraping pieces of the sky

Ethan Switch - Wednesday, 11 October, 2006 - 23:57:35 - print it raw

Clear is grey, covering the eyes, shadowing the footsteps and making the grass fend for itself. Against the rise of fists, shaking at the air, they cower with an uncertainty that bites a couple in the lower back. Impinging upon their ability to carry forth a familiar debate, it's time for them to step aside.

Unwillingly of course. Nothing makes the decision easier than having metal debris come down from the heavens to clear a path non existent mere minutes prior.

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Dragging a millionaire's ghost in the middle of the school

Ethan Switch - Wednesday, 4 October, 2006 - 23:56:31 - print it raw

Factor in the cost of living and it will never rise to the limits and lows of the force that frolics. For it is the folly of the fallow that flows freely into the free minds of the fearful.

Fetching pails and scooping handfuls of despair with the water tainted by stains and quatrains, it's a desperate attempt to salvation. One step over the lake and it's two more over across the bank to safety. Such a metaphoric concept that it is.

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All my questions, never an answer, nothing but a headwound

Ethan Switch - Wednesday, 27 September, 2006 - 23:56:16 - print it raw

Wake up, it's too late.

Middle of the night and the missing are as blank as the stares down in the middle of the day. A hazy scene of waves that shimmer with the shine of sweat and blood. More room to move, but with less to move about, around and among.

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Glowing magic bullets will prevail and take a breath

Ethan Switch - Wednesday, 20 September, 2006 - 23:56:27 - print it raw

More than a gasp will ever allow. Less than a clasp will ever disavow. Secrets of the south head north for the winter's spring. Disillusion in the make up, a break up and the shake up of the weak little sapling.

Make with the merry go round and a round and round it goes. Where it stops, only the beat of a soft sound truly knows. One that comes shortly after the cracking of the back of the head. A poison arrow made lead, straight through the heart with a direct line through the mouth.

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