Journal

happy holydays

She was dozing in the store front recess, wedged in by cardboard. The scumnut ducked into the same doorway and let loose a stream of urine inches from her feet.

A Christmas Message

I was at friend’s house the other day and he informed me that some of his friends had recently purchased themselves an oil-less deep fat fryer for Christmas.

Nativity Hobo

The bag laden droves are gone, only saxophone wine, busking for one. Macy’s window displays a manger, beside a twinkling yule tree. Among brightly wrapped presents below, sleeps a hobo.

companions

Zubaran, and Seneca i like the way you go together. Stay with me. You are welcome here. Vision of timelessness, i eat from the same table as you, Zubaran, with lemons ,and basket

The Writer is in...

The writer is in. Do you remember those scenes from Charlie Brown? Lucy is the dr, she has a wooden booth, and Charlie Brown goes to visit her.

In here (19.04.06)

It is inside this asylum that we accumulate, indulge, devour our senses. Senses not senses. Here we have stagnated

THE HEALER essay

“Dickie? Your father passed away suddenly tonight, a massive heart attack. It was so fast. I can’t believe it. He’s gone.” Then the crying began.
Cherry

Seasons End

My top 10 books of the year.

Shock! Horror! Plot in Crisis!

John Richardson was interviewed on Front Row this week. For the past 30 years he has been writing the biography of Picasso.
Cherry

it's a matter of taste.

only words, and words can't hurt, can they?