I washed the Poet's Coat (Fondue's lovely-lovely gift of a great number of my writings printed on swatches of fabric and sewn into a robe) the other day, and as it was hang-drying, I had a moment of marvel reading some of the stuff that I had forgotten I had written. It was an interesting twist on how I experience nostalgia, normally it's not quite ( Read more... )

I dreamt the other night ( Read more... )

He glances over his shoulder, watching the retreating figure being enveloped by darkness ( Read more... )

( FuturePast - An Interlude )

He blinks while considering my proposal, steely blue eyes focused somewhere in the past or the future; certainly not here, though. His twenty-something popstar appearance betrays the intelligence at work behind that face. When he looks up to meet my gaze, he licks his bottom lip briefly ( Read more... )

Welcome.
Sit down, my friend, and allow me to conjure a mirage for you...
( Part Fifty-Two )

The sun was sinking into the ocean on another St. Croix evening as the dark-skinned, white-shirted staff of the resort descended from the 'Grand Villa' to conduct the nightly ritual of torch lighting. Over the course of the next half hour the grounds and pathways through the resort would transform from sun-warmed luscious greenery to flame-bathed ( Read more... )

"So what you gonna do now, boy?" the question hung in the air like a rattlesnake, surgically poised ( Read more... )

And then there was the emptiness of the afterwards, yet still far from the peace of exhausted sleep. I slug another beer back and order another on a tab that I don't have to pay in this Casablanca-like limbo. Locked here like all these tragic mortals, I wait for a sign, a messenger, a way out, or the ones waiting in the shadows coming for me. Say ( Read more... )

I sigh, exasperated. "Look, man, of course I'm a bit nervous about tonight! I mean, statistically speaking, it's not even going to be /your/ ass anyway ( Read more... )