One night I watched David Lynch smoke a cigarette for five hoursI’ve held one of Orson Welles’ shooting scriptsAnd seen…
This thorn in my side
A festering wound of
*Hari Om — is a Sanskrit mantra thought to erase all suffering
She held tight the last black beadHanging limp on a string of words On breaths upon murmured breathsShe strung her pleas bead by bead On the line…
I am cursedIt seems