Sunday, August 27, 2017

And towards the end of summer, the glamour of Isadora crossing and uncrossing her legs.

Saturday, August 26, 2017

The woman in my dream was named Susan, an actress. When I woke it occurred to me that she was the woman I saw on a street corner a few years ago. She smiled but not so much at me as at the Rimbaud pin I was wearing on my lapel.

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

It was a winter of Polish potato vodka and Russian cigarettes.

Thursday, August 3, 2017

We felt like Charles and Mary Lamb on their way to the asylum.

Monday, July 31, 2017

Ivy Alice in her infancy, the two wee horns she was born with. Days are long for me but longer for Ivy Alice. After dark, when she's out and about, her cleavage sucks down the moonlight.

Friday, July 28, 2017

I came home to find the bluebird of happiness bathing in a pool of tears.