From the "Signs of the Coming Apocalypse" File
I don't know if I should be troubled or dumbfounded.
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"And I am a writer, writer of fictions / I am the heart that you call home / And I've written pages upon pages / trying to rid you from my bones..." -- "The Engine Driver" by The Decemberists
About Me
- Dave
- A recovering "slacker lit-geek," now trying to make good on all that untapped potential he kept hearing about.
friends who care for me
in beds in little rooms
bones beneath my skin
beneath the dust and love
ain't this position familiar
it's 4:30 a.m. on a tuesday
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