More by Simone Forti |
wall, slash of light, a perfect bird shadow, and then geraniums, fuchsia silk blouse an old woman she carries that color through space.......................................................
........she...
Posted by on Fri, 24 Feb 2006 23:40:00 GMT |
Chapter 13 |
2.23.06
"I clicked the gate shut and slipped down the alley. Through one fence after another, I caught glimpses of people in their dining rooms and living rooms, eating and watching TV dramas. Food...
Posted by on Fri, 24 Feb 2006 01:30:00 GMT |
poem and excerpt... |
Navigating the sea of humanityThe sweet soulful soundI want to live inside of forever for eternity.The painful reality that I cannotThe world that lies outside that door is like the imminent death of ...
Posted by on Fri, 24 Feb 2006 01:26:00 GMT |
a poem... |
From The House of Leaves, Mark Danielewski:the angles of your wrists..preserve a certain mystery,unknown by any lips or written down in any history.To measure their degreewould solve the oldest questi...
Posted by on Wed, 22 Feb 2006 00:02:00 GMT |
