Lo the ghetto lark puffs out a ditty in the cucumber glow of the BP filling station sign tonight I should be in Taipei with you I’m not in Taipei but isn’t it easier to adore you for the fact you aren’t around like a bumper crop prefigured in a blank field by the idle… [Read More]

In my dream of you perched in a turret in your white chemise with the blue star print, my oxen move through your spyglass trained on me in a far–off valley where my caravan trundles into my dream of you on an overpass in your helmet and overalls lobbing fruit at my pickup truck while… [Read More]

If this transmission should find you now continents removed from my last confirmed location, now in your era of no–go glaciers where your people tinder the jungle and marsh–make their tundra and you’re reading this there on your screen porch in the Tropic of Glasgow where you awoke this morning to what seemed at first… [Read More]