Maybe next time, I’ll get this right.


Living on Borrowed Words

We’re all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn’t. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing.  – Charles Motherfucking Bukowski

Other people’s words. I so often rely on them to express what gets lost between my brain and my tongue (or my hands, as the case may be).

Cellar Door

I’d planned to write more,

but then life took a crap on my head,

so I leave you with something beautiful.

Say it aloud.

Cellar door.