Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Angelus ~ Howie Good

I began this fall by watching a thin red squirrel it would be worth it to go ninety miles out of your way to see. So what shall we do about this angel, broken wing on the left? The smell of piss is what. When I woke up this morning I knew there was horror. It will always be invisible, it will. My friends, still of this world, follow me to the bottom of the river. Suddenly there are hundreds of fishermen on the road.

1 comment:

Laura M Kaminski said...

Fine work.