Saturday, September 12, 2009

Searching for Traces

No posts
No signs
No sonnets
No ocean
No gloom
No turning
No meaning
No story
No land
No loom
No present
No sleep
No secret
No business
No order
No breeze
No standing
No knowing
No dreaming
No sequel
No echo
No moon
at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

  Buy the Book And This One Too

  • When This Happened
    her backed dropped like apples through the bushels of the outdoors. I didn't have the skeleton for it but I walked up to her and tol...
  • Finally You
    Last night we finally got wind of the new greeting card. It sounded like shrimp head or lunch pail. But those are things of profound sadness...
  • (sic)
    Believe me bunny I never meant to use the soap and the toothpaste...yes but only once. I left the room and the young their milk. The fire pl...