Memories of Elephants

at some point don't you wake up somehow and decide NOT TO BE EVIL or do you look in the mirror and realize that what looks back at you is dark and hollow         artwork by robert montgomery at robertmontgomery.org  

Waukegan

We talk too much, Miranda, her feverish sister Sasha said, in her low voice, no secrets come out without silence. I do. Somehow I’ve come to believe that the last thing a writer or any artist thinks about is to make himself comfortable while he’s working. Perhaps the discomfort is a bit of an aid or... Continue Reading →

There’s no way to know…

...if this were true, you just have to go with it, I imagine myself surfing again on a perfect morning in the perfect temperature water amongst friends, no tiger sharks in the making or anything wrong with a perfect day, coz you get those once in a while even if Henry Miller turns out to... Continue Reading →

Or the continuing math of the continuing story. the deep dark motion an expanse that happens to come and go  unpredictable, since the emotion attached to the action or inaction beckons  self-flagellation, mutation, abomination. But today that is not the way I feel or think perhaps it is the sunshine perhaps it is the adherence... Continue Reading →

Prometheus has a mistress

yet it is not surprising that few people know this Icarus ascending nobody cares this time it's hot in the desert she is sick of wasting time granted, the mistress must wait each day for him to come home from work AH, Prometheus I could love you better than Athena Prometheus moulder of mankind from... Continue Reading →

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