thought 53
It has been too long since I’ve written something without a purpose. I so often used to write just to write, for the joy of it...
Pizza Orgasmico
That night, Mark and I drive across the Bay Bridge into the city. The hue that radiates across the late-evening sky makes it seem like the sun isn’t setting in any particular direction. It feels too bright for the hour. A strange calm reverberates from the traffic on the bridge. The pattern of the road against the tires. The San Francisco cityscape becoming more pronounced across the water in the distance. We’re headed to meet Jaron when he’s off work at nine-thirty. Jaron de
everywhere the gray-green
Everywhere the gray-green came up to Meet the dying winter sky And the trees amongst them Were heavy with longing for The Spring that wouldn’t come. I pass and see the steady fence destroyed Restored and dead along the tracks. It stays with me in part, through the impression of a hay field and a dip in the ravine. The hills Beneath the fence posts, The grass in shades of green Belong with me, as I with them become One, by one, by one. I pass and see the steady fence in ruins
