Monthly Archives: April 2015

On Reading Poetry

How many poems are in the world? One, two, many. How many of them mean anything? One, two, none; they all mean everything. We exhale, expire, then inhale, inspire. We die our death, distant, dark, then work our words, wistful, … Continue reading

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River

The possibilities are, as they say, endless. We can fight, we can talk, we can live, we can die. Here, now, this chair restrains only a few paths. Books or bed or booze or something are all possibilities, pathways, parchways, … Continue reading

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