Even weeds reach for the sky, as if heaven holds a secret, as if liberation lies in the stars and the day’s passage into night
Paint-on rainbows and special edition labels do not a top-notch product make. Have we not learned – domestic audiences are moving on, are more discerning
I toil in the dreamtime like a night manager in a hotel without walls, catering to clientele – whose needs, so diverse, rattle the rows
Is it just me, or is anyone else feeling low on energy these days? Wishing you all a laid-back Sunday.
Yesterday’s vibrancy now faded markings on boarded up facades I stand on the edge of loss, of ghostly memories and ponder what lies below –
I like a crispy stalk of celery to stir a Caesar’s spice, or a wedge of tart lemon squeezable in tea that is iced and