Even crawling was not an option
A cold night in Chinatown and resting
his head on concrete.
Friday, November 30, 2018
Tuesday, November 27, 2018
Sic Vita
It’s funny what sticks with me
of what I’ve received. It’s
what I make of it
that becomes my truth:
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An Empty Vase
An empty vase can be cobalt blue barely reflecting light coming in the window, dim like the last row of trees on a weste...
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On a cold day in a late Fall lying behind a dune
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Just thinking about the guitarist that night, who can sing of love in the most contorted fashion until the word has lost all lovelines...