finds a truffle every now and then.
That's what the little voice
tells me.
After I string together
a word or two
or even a few,
Everyone's a critic I guess.
Hot
-
I found a little peace somewhere between free and incarcerated I found a little peace somewhere slathered in paint and wanderlust... -
Flat, Like a joyless ode. No ups or downs, No peaks and valleys, Just the outstretched blank expanse of human emptiness Onto wh... -
The white panther pads Alight against the grey of winter Stalking through the cemetery Walking there alongside me The white panth... -
I should never have read any Bukowski Once I saw you could be a shlubby drunk and a literary icon at the same time it got re... -
I hope I don’t live to regret having lived. Some things are gonna suck, though, and for a long while, but never so much that “o...
-
Day breaks open over the halls of men. The yolk slowly sags its way down, coating everything the light touches in a thin sheen ... -
A pre-dawn chill runs up my spine as the black and white cat meows at the door. Another yawn hisses out of my wide-stretched jaws. To...
No comments:
Post a Comment