Those sweltering nights in Masaya without air conditioning. The small room a cauldron. Waking from the heat. Or thinking we were waking. Who...
Philadelphia at night seems to dance undulating light The fluid nature of darkness, electric with semblances. So language grows mutable...
The wind is singing verbosely through the shimmering elm, like a girl I once loved for an hour or two. Lovely song, lovely dance, lovely...
After midnight, coffee shop dissonance. A city become mostly memory, the hard, melancholy kiss of it. Florescent shadows, hypnagogic glee. ...
Two a.m. and the lettuce heads, frail green, are taking a shower. Frolicking in the night ether. Produce does not get lonely does not debouc...
