Jeffrey, russel, and the grandfather clock

that sunny june afternoon
i can't understand
on this chilly winter evening Paris was dark, but of lonely snow slicked streets with looming angular buildings
whoever you are
vernacular landscapes
nothing your eyes have seen, turquoise, deep blue, , light blue, a reason to start humming
i was thinking of chaos and order, of adjectives of the crystallization
he looks out of place,leaving the bright sunshine
like knives and keys, ten thousand pages, borderline dangerous surreality
yellow and orange circlets,conical peak, and the tick of a grandfather clock