The past is a drunk ex-husband.
The future is a mysterious, smiling stranger.You gonna ride this one through, baby?
Wasted and torn, you know you still can’t get off.We’re in it for the long haul.
Strap yourself in and let’s go.
Time zoomed byleft behind a smoking trailand skidmarks only I could see Nobody cared when I saidI’d been a victim of a drive-by shooting,Love in the driver’s seat So I stemmed my bleeding with paperTurned poetry into paper planesAnd sent them flying everywhere I saw the rogues appear One of…
For JD It’s coming on an year since our last conversation. A week when we were negotiating our definitions of intimacy, proximity, boundaries & identity. Sadly, I don’t even have the records of that any more. My phone crashed abruptly, last month. This is the same phone that you helped…
This month began with news of the death of one of my close relatives. A few minutes before midnight, he was found at his computer, hand still on the mouse, the light and life gone from his eyes.
A case of Emderatology: Close to midnight on Saturday, the coffee server on duty reported two dead people in the shop.
Listen
Listen to her speak
Hear every word she says
and also how she says it
There is always a sizeable number of people who have no interest in what’s going on. Are they really so many people who don’t know what to do with their time?
Final Destination!