in sequim, washington, in an antique store i found a typewriter for five bucks. it got damaged on the flight back home to LA but it served me well during these eight months without home-internet access. i moved a while ago, to a new place, a sweet little guest house close to the beach and i found in my boxes a bunch of writings.
THE question only of course would be do you walk and take it all, or do you see me at all?
singing floats and floods
back home a robin is dying.
wings old and rusty almost forgotten there needs to be a winter too in the small, the big, the all.
where do you go when the winds are calling?
how do you feel, when you do what you don't want to do, like returning to the fridge like a guilt tripped teenager, dying in mirrors of false vanity
maybe rebellion, but maybe not. balance, maybe, forget me not
all we know is be where you are and be it good, so later too we'll
give all of us
in silence
always LOVE
.
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