Words.

I had an English professor in high school who loved words. He would read pages out from books during class, and I would watch as he rolled the words around in his mouth like a fine wine, savoring the transition of consonant to vowel and back again, lingering lovingly over the sonorous tones, cherishing — almost…

People I meet on the streets of Las Vegas

A cross-section.

What do you want?

A life…

that is just anxious hopes,

Excursions

I sit in the dark, awake yet aware of another inner death. I breathe in the dark with a disinclination to the cold crimes of my mind. My…