Like the Buddhist

Like the Buddhist I do not believe  in the afterlife but on Sundays  When the bells ring  in the lonely town  of Leverett And there are Thos...

  • 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...
  • I know more wrote than read that book which is the self I am
    When I had my vision like the dark structures of communication turning somewhat lucid I thought these borrowed breaths could picnic for a ce...
  • 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...