(north)American Sentences

By far the coolest thing about blogging is that you learn things. The people over at NaBloPoMo have introduced me to American sentences, which are similar to haiku in that they're observations and they're 17 sylables but minus the 5-7-5. A much better explanation can be found here. I must admit I'm charmed by the form, if not by the name, so here are some (north)American sentences in somewhat chronological order that describe bits of my day:

Smashed egg permanently glued to inside of carton, one less breakfast.

I forget to wave to the circles man, he still circles regardless.

Man on bus interjects that he hates art, but I still love Picasso.

Chinese man wipes fog from bus window, fog returns, the world is obscured.

Sit with me, he says; lecture hall floor tacky underfoot so I don't.

Hot coffee clutched in my fingers stands between me and certain frostbite.

Dust doesn't care whether I want it here, coats things when I'm not looking.

Good things come to people who wait but I still hate being on dial-up.

World map on my desk: pen bisects Peru, computer north of Congo.

Dinner is finished already but angry stomach begs to differ.

Once again post, picture, mismatched, continuity police be damned.