I smell like church.I wake to the scent of the censorswinging, the smoke rising.
You’ve got a lot of nerve to say you are my friend. When I was down you just stood there grinnin’
I read somewhere that we think in the form of pictures; I do not know if we think this way exclusively but…
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Life has its own agendauntamableunframableescaping captureeven if at first glancewe fail to see howit is working its wayaround the edges of our visionand the carefully constructedcontraptions into which we fold…