Bullets
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The Veiled Journey
I was the man beyond the veil, and I was upside down in sunlight, so it seemed. A crystal-clear river of icicle vibes sparkled in that light to my left. A grassland to my right. Broken people with backpacks and real live monkeys on their shoulders wandered through traffic unaware of all that worldly danger… Continue reading
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The Swimming Window
And there were orange baptized bullets lodged in a wall of sea salt adobe and skull, a hard skull of architecture burned and bandaged the sun was far too bright as I dug them out with the tip of a knife and I was suddenly cursing the violence of Southwest sweat and artificial love and… Continue reading
cereal after sex 