ombredelhombre

corporeal ascendency

I will improve. And next time, I will do it right.

... of course, when you’re standing naked by the fire, there is no real space for words.

I see the man shooting: dark jeans, white sneakers, and bald as a baby, swinging the pistol wildly, hoping for luck or God to direct his slugs.

How can I explain that he’s been the same person over the course of forty or more years’ worth of TV shows...

All is poetry. All meaning is bent toward something else.

He’d been gone for seven years.

Last night was still and quiet when I stepped out for smoke. I had quit months ago. But I wanted to feel that smoke in my lungs again.

The wind will be all that matters. And the rain, too.

“Fluffies now come with 15000 sheets per roll!”