pop culture re-work through the freeze, the dead years atpinnacle of our youth. i am too scared to confront feeling - good lit ficirony, she dies when she wants to live, how boring. songwritingis a gift I do not have, the days slow down -- memories rip and wreckwithout warning, virgin birth: vivid grass smell,… Continue reading poem: getting back into things
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i could be bound in a nutshell and count it as infinite space if not for these bad dreams
the last pavilion 