i could not conceive of such beauty, it had to hit me like it has. nothing

of the things that make me become better only music is unlike surgery

may be too onerous a task for those not starving. lucky

man, it’s hard to come down from impossible hopes seemingly

here’s a story. it may even be true. where i come from nothing ever sucks, so i

Fieldwizards and firetops. Wobblybirds on snowflowers. Chilled milk and chowder for the little prince. Mothercake for mumbled thanks.

life and even one good thing– anything, a course in wonders becomes? no school, thanks not for me. no lesson one so likes declaring to find itself legs. no

shut my eyes and squeeze my demand, the point of a spear.  what will happen.

being drawn back unlike a bowstring but down and in as water finds the lowest

god is unwelcome in suburbia, the cells are too comfortable there, & love rests best under stars.