In a used book store a young man picks up a copy of Ulysses Runs a finger across the cover cutting a faint line through the accumulated dust...
Some inexorable urge has brought him here at this hour, the taciturn lull preceding the frenetic city evening. He chases down the lucent hea...
A man whose books receive mediocre reviews informs me that to be considered a professional writer one must eschew inspiration, must view its...
The forests glow the florid hue of eternal dawn, or eternal dusk. The infernal shrouded hours of senescence, or creation; brothers in the el...
The carcass at roadsedge, wind with his inorganic breath slips through the tall grasses downy and blonde. The lustered automotive carapace. ...
