Shredded pages torn from yellow pads littered next to neatly stacked piles of "To Do," "To File," and "Too Many Questions." A rapid fire Thursday from dawn 'til the quiet moment in a can of cold pasta at my desk. Six deliveries, eight pallets of potting soil, twelve invoices, and one headache, lasting an approximate … Continue reading April 5 : Thursday
Fontana, 4 (Via County Road) It's still night when I cruise-- down the highway's broad curving brushstrokes of dark pavement and rock-strewn shoulders, my car click-click-clicking as I wait for a pair of headlights, shaking and yellowed, to lumber past me before I swing wide onto the county road. I look for the old white … Continue reading April 4 : Fontana, 4 (Via County Road)
(Mercury in Retrograde) "Chaos!" scream the Sky Watchers with their heads tilted back, throats exposed to the rooted knives of the human condition.
As you lay this body down, down on cold hard forest ground-- split it open and salt inside, cut out spots where demons hide. Grind the bones to make your bread and forget about your empty bed. A wolf circles-- your quiet crypt keeper to greet this new death like winter's Reaper. Falling leaves will … Continue reading April 2 : Winter
It's said that the circumstances of birth-- the day, the music, the time, even the particular position of the stars far above our heads, leave fingerprints on our newly blossomed souls. When we open our mouths to gulp that first taste of air-- so sterile and electric, Leto swaddles us in a blanket woven by … Continue reading April 1 : Welcome
Typewriter Moon 