Louie, Louie
I see him, old Louie and he just stands there and stares like some big old thing. His shades loping. His brows furrowed. His sills dusty. But everyday I sing …
I see him, old Louie and he just stands there and stares like some big old thing. His shades loping. His brows furrowed. His sills dusty. But everyday I sing …
There’s something in the air. I don’t know what it is. But the people are howling and the stray dogs are quiet and it scares me. The tram rattles by. …
He waddles through the front door bearing a rustic suitcase and treasure shaped box, most likely holding all of his life’s possessions. Mauritius, he says to me. I go Mauritius. …
He despises ties. And high heel shoes. They don’t tap on, they only tap off their minds so they don’t have to tap in to each other’s worlds. His face …
Rain finds solace in the ends of my straw hair for a moment then is absorbed faster than the trams do pull up before me and he leans out of …
I don’t know why, but in much the way I gain inspirational ideas from messages I read in toilet cubicles, I also gain from the simple act of taking a …
I am reading Steppenwolf. A bright orange Penguin version. But the pages are rough and the ‘wolf haunts me and that is how I like it. I’ll be honest, I …
"become the stars within you"
250 words or less ea. week, for 1 year