Last Known Nest

 To friends who have so patiently waited for the return to writing--i stagger under humility and apology--what does one say upon a trembling...

Upon returning from an ordinary shopping trip to the nearest other small town, I turned to my friend who was driving her car with great...

For Tomorrow, Parting She, the child, she, the universe. Oh soft loneliness. And her body, alone, again. Sorrow swells in h...

Losing Your Tongue Ici je raconte la soif des livres cracquelés, je pronounce les silences riches d’émotions contenues dans chaque ...

Dear writer, I am your reader, I have sorted your stories and I want you to take me to places where I have never been. You may have tol...

Here is the hastily translated version of the slow poem, Sea Song. Dagga Punishment ambient sound and nadine sellers (voice). l < ifr...

 Once in awhile words insist on dropping by, to settle on the mind and demand a page, an audience of one, an ear to come alive or simply to ...