between the rocks and the bay
in the white a.m. glow
are wild seagulls and they
are circling and calling
while touching the heavens,
all seeking to show
in their grim, earthen wisdom
in their grasp of tomorrow
that i’ve lost my way

between the rocks and the bay
in the white a.m. glow
are wild seagulls and they
are circling and calling
while touching the heavens,
all seeking to show
in their grim, earthen wisdom
in their grasp of tomorrow
that i’ve lost my way
§ As you get older, the ghosts become more real than anything else.
§ Under the leaves, soil. Under the soil, stone. Under the stone, souls.
§ Radically empowering individuals in society may be the worst mistake we ever made.
§ Want to be a radical? Refuse to suffer. Then, wait for the assault.
§ Goodbye 2017, part two. (The real part.)
§ Sometimes you find home where you’ve never been—and you dwell where you aren’t.
§ The self can’t play Atlas for postmodernity because science is now supernatural.
§ Rehab is universal. So is history.
§ Identity, transcendence, and tactics.
§ Untitled. (a.k.a. Pretty faces, new old photos.)