Foolish Things

Click the image to listen to a makeup poem for dope folk.

I think it’s wild that when someone splits from someone they’ve loved for a zillion years they often say something like ‘I don’t know how to explain it…he/she just makes me feel alive.’  We deal each other these severe blows by saying to one another that the joys and triumphs of the years we spend together, as hard as those years may have been, are nothing compared to the thrill of brand new experiences with someone else.   Read More


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We are pulverized
Hormone-fed, locally grown meat
At the palms of a foul wind
Blowing down from
A tower spewing microscopic bits of amalgam
Until the day we are dust
This is the bottom, baby
Talcum Read More