Betrayed

“Birds fly in my windows, and tell me things. The little darlings.” he said to me.

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It Was a Beautiful Evening Full of Whimsy and Dreams Until You Said I Farted.

There is a bag of it here somewhere. Where did it go? The village took it away. https://twitter.com/Acanthotelson

I Wasn't Sure Black Holes Existed

i go back and read

about the shortened lives

of those who loved and wrote

for one

after a lingering

yet graceful death

gloriously he was burned

in a an iron machine on a shore

as a great storm came in

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He's a Lover Not a Fighter

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