Jan 23
You are an -ist and you represent an -ism!
seen from China
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seen from China
seen from China
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seen from China
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seen from China
seen from Australia
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seen from Türkiye
seen from Singapore
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye
You are an -ist and you represent an -ism!
I was Drunk and Missed the Miracle
i was innocent you see, i was down in san pedro having a drink watching young ladies going to work, and the old men sitting in the shade a friend came to me to say, its time to go and put your money away i stumbled behind him through the door, i was a mess in the afternoon i awoke upon the top step, of our lady of the rosary, with the tenderest bruise on my cheek i had only one shoe and my shirt was torn the sun in a scarlet flame, beat down on my brow, some would say later it danced, zig-zagging- just like- a fire wheel i drug myself through the streets, smelling of liquor and death a gentle voice beside guided me away from the alley where i intended to sleep the coffee of el centrito, filled my heart with the spirit to drink but the stranger beside me replied to me that it was time i went back home it was the wrong place to be, i admit i had many many drinks, but i've never held gun, or pulled a trigger and never even seen hammer fall on a spark none the less someone is dead, on the day three secrets were told i missed the first two, made no sense of the third, i was told it was beautiful
Robins in the Storm
do you love me like the robin fallen to the street? shaken from the tree by a midnight tempest in late spring run over by my neighbors car then kicked into my yard do you love me like the robin at my feet? with its clipped wings torn asunder by teeth and claws of the beast alive in my house mainly my cat tweek do you love me? like the robin that fell from the tree? into the jaws of the fierce stark streets bloody and pulsating unforgiving stark and dour dismal drab and unrelenting brutal and ironic do you love me like a decaying robin in my neighbor's yard balled up kicked into the street again run over by neighbors a car and what remains is just a black mark no bright colors no evening song just more cars and more smog no more music just the roar of lawnmowers and progress
