Planting seeds yesterday got me thinking.   Seeds,with their protective coating,will sit undisturbed for years in a dry place.But,put them in the soil with water and sun and voila...plants appear.   For all intents and purposes they were dried up and dead.   What if...

We all have somethingurgent to do.Tell the man thatworks at the butcher'sshop.Tell the boy who deliversyour newspaper.Tell the groundhog beforehe sees his shadow.Dig up Poe and Ginsberg,and tell them.Tell the streetmusician playingfor tips.Tell the whores and thevirgins.Tell the next...

My dreamy world of writingis a graveyard shrouded in fog.Where each story has a grave,each grave has a character.These living, breathing corpseswith open eyes, raspy voicesand souls, gaze on through my eyes.

There is a keyhole to my heartthough there is no key holder.A keyhole to the wonders I dream of us,wonders that only exist within my mind.This door to my soul locked and windowless,you beg to enter even if only...