the coming storm or how the madman dwindled in the autumn 10092017

whose lips have embraced my lips? i must know (posthaste!) where and why. i forgot my manners (and my sin) and what rifles upon my heart until morning. the rain is just, for this night, full of ghosts (my loving coils and string theories) that touch her heart and thigh. in the glass half-full and […]

saturday august 26 , 2017; the madman’s Charleston diary

damaged, i walked out onto Queen Street to breathe. some random man walking about town let loose the plastic bag; freedom for all or freedom for none! the gibberish blended in the talk of the jaborwaki. the mind rested and created with the town; nestled in water. it is clear with the smell of rain […]