Radio interview on Cultural Energy, revolving around Nocturne Variations, the writing life, youth, Taos, Brooklyn, and other assorted ramblings. (Show is listed as a link under December programs). Advertisements
Tree’s night-perm like fog, stars pining to get lost there– Long distance courtship. (Artwork by Georgia O’ Keefe)
At the true pulpit, Silence reigns, speaking volumes– To praise, we listen.
Hell, according to Sartre, is other people. When I arrived, god knows where, silence, dust, clouds, a time-scarred sign and not a soul anywhere to be found, I began, in earnest, and jest, to wonder if Sartre was right, heaven, … Continue reading
Day after day after day modeling ripe, fugitive blankness, to the siege of passers-by who smiled sweetly and pointed at the coat, the dress, the bow, yet none of them saw what wasn’t blatantly advertised, the age-old curse which kept … Continue reading
It is the filigreed static, and effluvient roar of the water nymphs choral concert, which numinously orders the light and stones to conspire, and function as delegates of symmetry.
Rebirthing, within fathomless hues, beyond the opaque rim, and vanishing, someone waits to claim your life anew.
Within the licorice hush and mottle of Dream’s darkening brood, we cede, slowly, to faintest rumors on a paling cusp, to gainly renew.
For Sale: Victorian-style home, shovel, plants, and hallowed plot of earth included. Head not part of the package, original guillotine, negotiable.
The house, the chair, the vintage attire, the cloud-pastried sky with no limits, time and again she projected herself into someone else’s life, their memories and reality, and saw herself reflected as if a happy mannequin behind lucent glass.
