Like a White Russian drinking tea in Paris, marooned in the twentieth century, I wander back, try to regain hose distant pathways; I become too maudlin, lose myself. Weep...I sit in the chair and ooze like a sponge.

“What she read was a series of short connected lyrics, “Isis in Darkness.” The E…”

“What else can I do? Once you've gone this far you aren't fit for anything else.…”

“His view of the world featured swift disasters set against a background of lurk…”

“Because you are never herebut always there, I forgetnot you but what you look l…”