Category: Desert Scrawls
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Pink jukebox spins an array of psychedelic tunes in a diner on the wrong side of the desert where the crows dance and bow and she wipes away the sweat from her frosted brow. She thinks it’s cold outside. Cold in the desert. What does she know? It can get…
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What is it about this disarray of life that eats at my guts on a hot morning in July while I stand in a sauna of soap and bleach in the kitchen of the Silver Taco Café in a town in the desert that has no right to be here.…
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In a town called Shithole, Wyoming Where all good dreams skid, crash, and die The interstate exhaust hangs thick in the air And the cackles of the unloving haunt lonely hotel halls and rooms Where the color of the walls is warm wounded gauze and infection And the static of…
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It was somewhere between Q-Town and the LA basin of all that glitters and orange grove cathedrals that there came the great snow and I was forced to shut down in some Arizona town— I was in between lives, feverishly dodging the corruption of compassion that come raining down all…
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CEREAL AFTER SEX 