Dummy Run Neither strangers nor friends But the love is still there– Older, less critical, resigned, Feeble but also unwavering, A cast iron anchor Patiently sitting at The bottom of the ocean. And as far away as we sail, And as much as time floats on, We remain tethered, still.
dear new york here i stand before the city i grew up in and yet i betray her, i think of you instead. you, the only skin I have truly tasted, always too sweet, too salty, almost rancid, never quite exactly, but always just enough. in this city that isn’t you, lives are boxed up […]
Writing is a way of talking without being interrupted. Jules Renard
nevver: The New Yorker
RIP Gore Vidal