a great one has said
that poets are midwives
to reality
yet these words
catch me
when i would have them
let me go
from
, Said the Shotgun to the Head
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Love.
"What I hear are the somnambulists coming down the hall. About eight of them. They’re quick. Right now everything smells like buttermilk, but the world is still distant to me, like a cloud to its shadow. I’m the shadow. Of something bigger. I think. Like the memo says: the world is merely a path made visible and we are allotted only so much time to be strangled by it. So my advice is to go out there and raise some hell. Like the somnambulists." - Tony Tost
God damnit. the blog is falling to pieces . . links are droppin like flies
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