hint: My “exCUSE me?” •
and you repeating yourself •
will get you “that’s RUDE”. Continue reading →
A Sunday like this || all ordinary •
the age of revolution || upon us Continue reading →
Words strung one to one like cars commuting, •
sidling up and past and rearranging, Continue reading →
Others, smelling the warm, moist nights recall •
when love first broke the winter’s long silence Continue reading →
River, ramble as you will. This road’s a cruel, hard master •
And I can’t slow the water’s flow, or travel any faster. Continue reading →
Do not wish to be anything but what you are, and try to be that perfectly.
