Hamlets

Where be the will to pick up the quill to link up on a page the ink? But don’t we all dwell in the well of ideas? if seers and sages throughout the ages have garnered their strength to write, some at length, can’t I? The day recoils and its smoke drifts away into the…

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At the cafe

Trying to pull my thoughts in from the shivers down my spine, getting it together one more time. And so I rose blew my nose did what risers do, just trying to get through another day. The paperboy who’s sixty-eight years old whistled far too gaily as he shoved my daily Daily, through the letterbox,…

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