Morning Thanks

We had heard of a parade that morning.
There had been a lot of things heard by that point.
We decided to make our hands smell like popcorn.

The Whiz

And nobody.
Beats me.



A fog rolled in.
I said God damn.


A friend once gave me his dad's old 8 track player for me to put into my car. We were in high school and it was my first car. A dark green 1973 Monte Carlo with a vinyl roof. With the pull of a lever the seats swiveled around. The back seat was plenty big enough for two high schoolers but I never had the opportunity. I smoked my first soft pack of Marlboros in that car with that same friend. The 8 track player never got installed and my friend and I no longer speak to each other. Since then I've had countless friends and two cars. The only thing I have in the backseat of my car now is a copy of The Hobbit and a blanket. Honestly, neither have been used for their intended purposes.


Ave Maria

Benedicta tu in mulieribus
Ora pro nobis peccatoribus


We try most of our lives to gain recognition for the things we do. Most of what we did, though, we will come to realize were just simple cases of a carrot on a string in front of the mule. If you are a poet people will think highly of you when you finally admit this defeat. If you are a photographer however, people will simply ask, "Is that a picture of pomegranate juice on your blog?"



a single dog
walking alone on a hot sidewalk of
appears to have the power
of ten thousand gods.

why is this?


Negra y el Guitarristo