The old Russian poet sits down at a bistro with his muse. New York, of course, sometime late in summer. Sweat seeps through the distended be...
In my dream last night there was a party and you were there. Things had not ended badly. So we laughed. You wore a white dress (which seemed...
It is difficult to believe that as you move through a sultry thick night like this that somewhere, not far off, there is the boy the age you...
