to play through the weight of static fields glistening in the frost hewn winter grafting scales onto the western sky under tops of roofs where howling feral cats peel the moon off the refrigerator…
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t’s 7am and the hounds won’t stop barking. morning light opens her dry eyes, reaches for the half glass of water to cool her mouth from a worried sleep, and shuffles around in a dreamy wake turning the knob on the coffee pot. the perforated golden fog is being torn down. hear the hammers and saws of dawn. patches of azure stretch out like flower crowned ladies in the shade of an evergreen, holding hands through their pink and sticky whispering. a song is being sung somewhere. spring.
this site will be a bit of uncovering for me. yet, i know not what i intend to use this endless space for… i suppose, i am to post for you, endless you, my perspective on current events, witticisms and platitudes, and, otherwise, up to date status reports regarding my temperance and humor. i won’t be doing this. i have no perspective on current events. i have no witticisms that were not originally said by either oscar wilde or mark twain. and, i lost the mood ring i was given in sixth grade years ago. i will post small writings and unreleased songs that i write and record in my studio apartment. i hope to speak and be heard. i hope to write and be read. i hope i am honest…
letters & numbers