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crapped on again

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Toronto, 2018.03.07

I discovered splat of bird crap on my shoe; my sixteenth crapping upon by our flying friends. This time it was dry and came right off thankfully. I wonder what manner of flying poop vector it had been. Something small, but not as tiny as a sparrow, I think.

My entire history of being blessed by birds is here.

rand()m quote

Between the idea and the reality. Between the motion and the act. Falls the Shadow.

—T.S. Eliot