Motel
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Lonely Motel
Doesn’t that look lonely That orange, muddled horizon Two cars at the Americana Motel The yellow brick and brown doors Square, curtained windows A jagged neon sign Black circles and yellow arrows A lonely smear of bruised sky One that makes the heart swell And the soul inflate Broken people crawl inside Weary travelers on… Continue reading
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The Orange Motel
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 over the world like a… Continue reading
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Mingling With the Savages
The parched, rocky landscape flew by me like a desolate nightmare. The sky so gaping wide, churning blue and cream. Continue reading
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