N
a p a l
m H e
a l t
h S p
a : R
e p o
r t 2
0 0 9
KATIE YATES
on
sound
on sound, en sound, recollected in
tranquility like a train, an evening plum blossom
delight or firework in bed, a string of our
successes lying low, horizontal,
intangible, the sweetness of snow, edible, marin, a
marten, pendulum, the pending
show
cupcake
truck
little boy in the electric earth year of the
ox, the feminine cow, the cupcake truck
with its sweet potato offerings, the bright
sun-on-the-bricks and in his hair, the
sunshine it is, the beginning of daylight's
savings again around the bend, the ivy
league ways of old stone and thick slate and
chamber music, they say, it is a
moment, this life, a ripple and gone, in our
hands, a gem that resolves to be, a
surface, a superfluous amount of joy &
sound, a guitar sound, a habitat and hello
to