Furry Wombat

If I were brave, I would step off the moving sidewalk.  I dream of large gardens, pygmy goats, chickens, canning, worms, earth.  But the moving sidewalk is propelled by proposals, self-promotion, academic angst, deadlines, performance.  I tire of living in my head and on the computer.  I want to be animal.  I will be animal in death.  Why not sooner?

This entry was posted on Saturday, June 19th, 2010 at 8:49 pm and is filed under life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.