An English In Kentucky


















December 22nd 2010    Tim Candler

    One Potato Rock tossed into space, produced the center of the circle.  The second and third Potato Rocks, tossed into space, defined two points on a straight line. 

    Once transcribed, this line surprised us, it ran through the circle giving an appearance of design.  And too, it was difficult to think of the line as an infinite line, because in my mind I saw it travel on around the world, until it returned through the barn door.

    As well there had been something with paws padding around in the dust, signs of slaughter near the bush-hog and I swear something with a large beak was judging us from the rafters. 

     Potato Rocks themselves, were inclined toward pirouette and dance.  They bounced around and rolled, and some of them wandered off into the dark.  And strictly speaking we should have left them there, but temptation was great and on five occasions Potato Rocks were re-tossed.

    These unfortunate behaviors from both Potato Rocks and ourselves added to the appearance of design.  And increasingly I could feel my hand trying to place the rocks as I took my turn to toss them.  And here I think the Artist was more diligent in her pursuit of abandonment because I had a soda pop and she had a glass of wine.

      Happy days, and we fall toward summer.

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