Poetry

Falling down the hole that has no bottom, like Alice on her great adventure in Wonderland, my heart beats fast and hard– I hear it in my ears, throbbing–but whose ears are they? The white rabbit I followed who ran away with my dust mop? Why would he want my dust mop anyway? There is … [Read more…]

They should serve food in art galleries. It would bring more bodies in so the masses can proclaim, with satisfied grins, that they are patrons of the arts while they gobble tasteless, cold, mushy, food-like substances, glancing in between bites at walls attempting to satiate a go-go-go society’s need for culture when there is no … [Read more…]