I am just chewing up all these things, cheeks fat and gleaming with meaty poetry, mouthy, self-indulgent. Words, all the time, can’t stop can’t stomach all the silence, all the brain waves. I… Continue reading
It’s not too late to burn the bread or turn the car around or drop everything. You say it’s never too late, I think it’s probably too late for some things.
I needed to take a break for awhile, to walk under almost-blossoming apple trees and smell the still air all dark and rich with new life. I needed to escape the ride.