2012
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Enter Stage Left.
“How much have you had to drink?” Continue reading
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By the Wilson Stream.
There is a brief period…where the warmth of sleep clings to a body…. Continue reading
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Say what?
Oh oh. Do you feel it? The centrifugal pull, the center (or “centre”, as Yeats wrote) tearing loose; it all coming apart at the seams? Scattering. That false orderliness? The niceness, and the politeness, loose and limp, pulled to sea in a receding tide? Yes, you must feel it, no? Put up a smile and… Continue reading
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Moleskine Notes
“There are two types of men…” Continue reading
...the house I live in... 