Mark Doty writes these lines -

and we go down into the trance
of touch and the skull-buzz drone

singing cranial nerves in the direction of peace

- at which point I know firepower will understand. So here's the poem.

(I think of this place all the time. Livejournal, not the barbershop. Or maybe LJ as the barbershop.)

“This Your Home Now”

For years I went ( Read more... )