I see my dog turning old, lose skin under her neck, I see her sleeping more and more, nodding off as she pretends to stay awake. I sit there talking to someone, a person who promises the world to me. I take my book and open a page – last poems I published about an […]
Long walks are the portals of clear vision, looking at dirt roads to see clear sky… Gone over the edge to see where edge resides, – and then it’s all black and white.
My mind is made of compartments. Boxes made of wood and metal – organised to give me access. Otherwise, a jumble of wires, trying to make sense of utter nonsense.