In mud, snail tree, one eye, by creek. Legs white, shadow fawn, wet jeans, leaf sky. During day, flies land, suck hoof, horse’s ear. Mud pigs, daddy long-long legs, and even bobcat’s purr. In tree, tiger climb, breathe air, cry trying. Snail tree, moss shell, many moons old. In stream, cold creek, dog toes, sleeping… Continue reading Snail Tree
Day: May 9, 2012
The Principle of Creative Relativity
As my first Novella, Post Modern Artist in Exile Is receiving a full makeover and re-edit, I thought I'd post a couple stories from it. This is from 2006. As the sun awoke from the night sky the stars retreated to dance behind the moon. The twilight hours soon have passed and the darkness of sleep vanished into the distance as… Continue reading The Principle of Creative Relativity
(C)
(C) See what I’m talking about. My hands are shaking. I walked home. Somebody pulled over on the side of the road. Asked me where Southern is. They were looking for some liquor store. I didn’t have a clue what he was saying. I couldn’t understand him. He was slurring his words. I think he… Continue reading (C)
The Written and Spiraling Creative Staircase; this is how I write, Part 2
(…the process...and the First step is typewritten, just letting it pour out while I’m tapping my feet and having fun and just a you know make believing. Next is the first edit on the Toshiba cobalt blue, and then I reread and read and read it over about four in many strange out-loud voices. Next I use… Continue reading The Written and Spiraling Creative Staircase; this is how I write, Part 2
Glued hands, Hearing Voices, and Goodbye Maurice
I'm just typin' notes and making some books with a candle dancing and the echoes of the pipes breathing, with the clock hissing and spinning my life towards the light that will come from another one of those days, and while this happens I'm thinking about the number of seconds that will go by in my lifetime.… Continue reading Glued hands, Hearing Voices, and Goodbye Maurice
Adventures In American Writing 