Field guide No. 765
Violin strings bloom into grass
Out of tune, into seed.
On a bare table, an old violin lies with its bow, and its strings have grown into a long sheaf of green grass spilling off the end. It needs a mow, not a tune.
Field noteStrings are wire or gut, made long ago. These are green and growing, and still fixed at the pegs.
- Specimen
- No. 765
- Genus
- Generated
- Kind
- Impossible (the round square kind)
- Where it doesn’t exist
- A cold rehearsal room.
- Nearest existing relative
- A violin.
- Filed in Fresh slop as
- Objects
Also impossible, also breaking material
The open door of airA door is whatever stops you. This one is made of air, so it is shut and open at once and stops nothing.
Tidepool lobster’s magnifying clawsLobster shell is hard, red and anything but clear. These claws are glass lenses and still pinch.
Red kite tears open the skyA kite opens a bright tear through the blue sky. The weather has been treated like cloth.
The telephone booth’s fractured airCracks from the booth’s broken panes run on into the open sky, splintering the air like a windowpane.