Tag: Writing
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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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The doorbell rang at dusk The old woman came bearing fruit She held three tomatoes in tired hands One was the size of a softball The other two she cradled like bloated testicles They came from her very own garden and she beamed with pride I had to accept the…
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The low machine hum of the big, big city is entrenched in gaslight dawn. The birds and the killers are mum, waiting for the razor light of god’s heart to percolate and breed as the handmade souls rise, wash and run. And it was a hot day in the desert,…
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CEREAL AFTER SEX 