Music, I am moved by music and the way it strains and means something, what? I am not sure… something to me, or to you, but it is different ...
It was the last week of October. David Sanborn and his wife Claire were driving away from Philadelphia on Route 1, heading out towards West ...
A muffled chainsaw hums like an insect water drips, insistently, like a clock beat A door clicks open, exposing the siren and sensual bass o...
Philadelphia is so peaceful in the early morning hours Her bareness so touching, her pulse asphyxiated, It would not be hard to fathom all o...
There are times I imagine a wide beach Inundated with pools of brackish, dull water It is eaten in large swaths by sea birds and clouds The ...
