Monthly Archives: November 2014

Optima Dies Prima Fugit

I’ve had enough of head wounds. God keeps on slicing me open, when I’m not looking. I blame it on the dusk or silly Troy or one glass of wine and I curse like Aeneas. If God hadn’t knelt down … Continue reading

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I like J.D. Salinger’s pine trees– white like he is, so white he looks like winter, old man winter with bark for skin, enduring Dachau’s sins all these years with his love of innocents, still standing with boughs so protective … Continue reading

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