Suppose disintegrating into the soil is the best next place to be, surrounded by dirt and its worms chomping through. It's more there to me than it is to a student of suits. Yet in an encompassed environment, stemming wood from its fruit, we go laughing and brimming all cute. Still disguise yourself, child. The … Continue reading I Am a Patchwork Quilt
Tag: New York writer
1. Interestingly, as the year begins to turn over, and winter is beginning its five-month grip on the weather, I am in no more trouble than I could be. My mood is beginning to waiver, yes-- I have to better watch my temperament. My shoulders ache, hunched against the wind cold and biting. My hands … Continue reading Balderdash
Oh, with fantastic shivers, run Beside a candle dripping upon The table 'neath the shelf above A chair you sit, too dear It's backward, yet sincere And for the forgotten, it's been said There's nothing more to distinguish in it A portion of reconciled air Of putrid soil and debonair Stares You whittle off a … Continue reading To Havens Racked
