He came from a different time,
earlier than ours. He came from last year.
Monday, May 25, 2020
Friday, May 15, 2020
Unwriting My Story
Let
me spin my story anew
We
didn’t live in Guernsey Hollow, so why would I care
if I
might have had to snap potato bugs in a small garden
that
we could have had across the road
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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...