stomach sickness ensures seeing cesspools of slop and slime seeping slowly, smoothly cinching sensual secrets safe, so sins and sorrows slips swift escapes. spend and sleep and spend, issues somehow spread uselessly. so swell, says the soul, missing sweet sensations, some sprinkling some and softly swirling, so she spit sour shit at my shoes. sorry stoners, sometimes shortness in sighs signify some scary syndromes. so simply it should seem, somehow so mysterious, so solidified, so sleepy. so long, spring!
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Tonight will be the night. Just a few more hours. I’ve spent years hiding this darkness inside me. My urges have taken over little by little...
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I visited Walden Pond on my birthday. I was driving five hours from Rhode Island to Vermont, and I didn’t want to be stuck in a car al...
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