Tomorrow, waves high— I beg tidal, unseen, drawn. Done with repeats… Fire.
Artists
Stay tilted in my anything but wilted spill, it’s… Just me again reading to self some cliffside poetry… […]
what…. I know people don’t want to hear or read about that. Snap out of it…. concentrate on […]
Read but not said, dead cuz I didn’t self- fed, or fund, two minus one leave me, Assumably, […]
There’s an ocean right there. I think it wants me. But for what? Just swim, swim…
Starting the day after xmas like the new year has already thrown its talons into my prose and […]
formed from a question, then spread atop evasion. sound like anyone? I’m wondering what’s meant by safe.. be […]
listen to it all night– if it’d go that long. Why does weather have to be on its […]
Back to work, back to surprise myself. But more than anything, defeat you. Quiet as I ever heard […]
6:57. Just did ten pushups, try to be somewhat active. Tomorrow morning, life or DEATH time for the […]