You weren't well or really ill yet either
I loved it then, and I still love it now.
Yep…looks like a tank to me Corporal
I didn't doubt for a moment you were dead
Kozinsky rumpled his brow
If you are lucky in this life you will get to help your enemy
The telescope could zoom to an object from a mile away
The murderer had been injecting her remorselessly
But this doesn’t make sense.
The washing sways on the line, sparrows sing
here I am in my garden laughing
I thought they had no goddamn tanks anymore.
Snow is falling on the boulevard
The Sergeant retorted thoughtfully.
The crack of opening bed-sheets, starch in the nostrils
He sounded like a grizzly bear with a stinking hangover.
Let us go then, you and I
Sighing and moving the reflective goggles, hanging limply around his neck like misplaced adjectives
Joe Davis, eight-five, winters old, still alive
The awesome glare of the desert sun immediately dulled to a pleasant orange hue
To be in the presence of such a great writer
Your protagonist is not at home right now
We are talking of the great things
You were the inspiration
A man should clear a space for himself
The fox pushes on, softly, blindly
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment