Red dust
Gathering in the orchestra pit between the strings and brass
A little mound rumbles
Like a town
Conceived by an opus
I am of the town
And bombs were upon us
Our heads hum
On the minute
Like clockwork, they burst
Into a solemn sun
Four girls went into a room a very long time ago and none of them left. They lived in the partings of each other’s hair. They were not...
It was just things that happened which I’m plenty allowed to add the list, counted plastic beads on a string falling to be with their...
Which I used to assume was warm even this far up along the coast because I thought all beaches were hot; don’t you know that the world...