Tag Archives: 1960s

Godot in Vegas

This just in: No one is waiting for Godot anymore. No one has the time or interest. Plus, no one knows who he, or Samuel Beckett is. The wastelands are even dryer, tubercular in their plot and scrape, and presently … Continue reading

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Footfalls

Not a simple feat, to follow one’s own footsteps– I, me, her, repeat.        

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Edie

Too many small hours pimped out to wraiths on parade– Heart, in real time, breaks.

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