July 2013 – Page 3

Columbine (At The Circus)

I’m guilty myself but suppose you’ve not drunk among better friends that as past worth have o’er the peace that work at hand bitten so to please the hungry riffraff on the second hand a hook and a proper fool

Use An App

acumen you call the center’s fascination moor’d to censorship no laughing matter for the weather whet your thumb near an aqueduct and the photo sell at a fountain you prefer in Copenhagen

Over Theirs There’s One

from ago I sat with O risen Orion bullets in my belt my fond hound below a foothill for his pillow that until exile to the Strangers West where the morning tips a cup and I learn to thirst

The Part About The Horse

one foot from hunger scratch tin box all night north a saddlebag where as is well done at a spring in an expanse it may bottom out as the rain alert without reason the dust falls o’er a rime of salt

diario di nessuno n.3

Originally posted on WEISSES WERK:
Non si raccoglie il silenzio del bosco mettendogli intorno parole, alberi o montagne. È una trama che scavalca i fiumi e senza fare un’onda solca i laghi, aggira gli occhi annichiliti delle bestie che lo perlustrano nascosti nelle tane. È fuoco acceso contro il cielo senza focolare. Si irradia da…