skip to main
|
skip to sidebar
clumsy tools
words are just the clumsy tools we use to get at the truth
Friday, January 1, 1988
acid rain
when you told me that
in your dream last nite
i had torn into the blue sky
between your legs
i opened my mouth to scream
but stars fell thru my lips
singing and burning
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
collections
art
family
i cannot disappoint you
mingus
separate lives
surrogate laughter
the purest evidence
Blog Archive
►
2022
(2)
►
October
(1)
►
August
(1)
►
2021
(2)
►
September
(1)
►
January
(1)
►
2020
(2)
►
November
(1)
►
September
(1)
►
2019
(3)
►
July
(1)
►
June
(1)
►
March
(1)
►
2018
(1)
►
May
(1)
►
2017
(10)
►
November
(1)
►
October
(2)
►
September
(2)
►
July
(2)
►
June
(1)
►
May
(1)
►
March
(1)
►
2016
(3)
►
June
(2)
►
May
(1)
►
2015
(1)
►
May
(1)
►
2014
(4)
►
August
(1)
►
April
(1)
►
February
(2)
►
2013
(6)
►
May
(3)
►
April
(1)
►
February
(1)
►
January
(1)
►
2012
(3)
►
May
(1)
►
March
(1)
►
February
(1)
►
2011
(12)
►
April
(1)
►
March
(6)
►
February
(3)
►
January
(2)
►
2010
(11)
►
December
(1)
►
November
(3)
►
October
(2)
►
September
(1)
►
June
(1)
►
May
(1)
►
April
(1)
►
March
(1)
►
2009
(4)
►
December
(1)
►
October
(2)
►
January
(1)
►
2008
(4)
►
December
(1)
►
September
(1)
►
August
(1)
►
May
(1)
►
2007
(2)
►
June
(2)
►
2006
(7)
►
November
(1)
►
October
(3)
►
August
(1)
►
May
(1)
►
April
(1)
►
2005
(5)
►
December
(1)
►
July
(1)
►
April
(1)
►
February
(1)
►
January
(1)
►
2004
(2)
►
August
(2)
►
2003
(1)
►
April
(1)
►
2001
(1)
►
July
(1)
►
1995
(8)
►
September
(2)
►
August
(2)
►
July
(3)
►
April
(1)
►
1994
(2)
►
October
(1)
►
September
(1)
►
1991
(10)
►
March
(1)
►
February
(1)
►
January
(8)
►
1990
(27)
►
July
(1)
►
February
(1)
►
January
(25)
►
1989
(14)
►
January
(14)
▼
1988
(9)
▼
January
(9)
Peepholes
The Beak of the Heron
the undertaker's children
myku
thank you
Notes From a Stephen Crane Appendix
diving into a septic tank
acid rain
a change of socks
About Me
charlie
a place for all the new things and archive for all the old things. a slow trickle of both, moving forward and back semi-simultaneously
View my complete profile
Followers
No comments:
Post a Comment