I am a coward. I wan't to die but I don't want to hurt. I want to cling on to life. But I don't. I want to just let my grip loosen and let go. But I don't want the fear of falling.

There is something happening somewhere right now that involves us all. Some small gesture is taking place, maybe by design, maybe by chance. Who knows? The gesture has been seen.

American kids doing what they do in America but I didn't buy it. That answer was too pat. Too readymade. Like we weren't ourselves Americans who knew how to look beyond the frame.

This Form framing. That is its Form. Its frame contains it and keeps it from high rise vacations and black rocks in stone wall. You saw Redemption just then. I can't blame you.

The child held onto her mothers hand, they were hostages. She had seen so many people killed so many people today.

In a town called Zingsborough (or Edwards, depending on who's mayor at the time) there's a 12-story restaurant. Every floor has just one table, except for the eighth, which has

Philip Marlowe waded through the knee high chemical clouds that surrounded the Stygian Fields. He could make out an approaching darkness near where the riverbank should be. Charon.

Let us meet in the valley of Red Meat where the westerns found their El Dorado. Let us run through the then until the past is a balmy riverboat excursion. Let us get naked aggressi

The trouble began when he accused me of having common sense. I snarled back, "It is lucky for you that your sense is common or our Seconds would be talking!" That worked on him but

The moment the fasten seatbelt light went out he got up in search of a mile high snacker.

dad had already opened the pub. Fking dad, ha, I liked being drunk who cares what dad tinks? I puled my hood down and ordered a drink. I didn't pay. He lifted my hood up and gasped

You act as if there existed an iota of equivalency between my death and yours. Your death would maybe put a sadness in the world. My death would destroy the world. Without me, none

There were some angels eating at the diner last night. They had to be asked twice to mute the glory. Little Delilah Pavi, pulled on Gabriel's wing & asked it about The Fallen Ones.

And the miracles felt just like I did. It was going on. Sweet sweet goings on, sweet sweet do wop do wop do, Lets scream and shout and get the word out about that lout Trout.

In the summer of 1975 we didn't have Instagram or even smartphones. We traded time for remembering but then forgot. Time seemed to be disappearing. Just yesterday it was Tet all ov

Running the clans kept her home but she still longed for the smell of men at war. Leaving their destruction in their wake. Not this death by 100000 cuts: Trivial and Legal Matters.

President Pence had to decide what to do with Trump now that he had been impeached for being a traitor. Keeping him alive would be costly & a waste. Death to traitors it would be.

Hubo una cueva muy calentita,donde podia descansar

On the third day, the ship Nirvana and I had booked arrived at its destination. On the third night, I dreamed about

"This is so unfair!" Tabitha's nasal voice shrieked, her shaking purple hand pressing to her forehead. Mur, the floating entity at her bedside, shook his head.