On November 22, 2017 In Envy
Precise muscled writing, a tearing arc of pain that gathers in my own. Emotion, perfectly wrought. This symphony of long-held grief for the departure of loved ones is a reminder, jagged as a hacksaw, that those embedded in my heart never leave.
On November 19, 2017 In Sloth
A reader buddy called it an epic as a slur. To my reading, this book is epic in the modern sense, despite its spirit of respect for the elders. Heads roll, guns fire, love conquers, vengeance is had and life goes on.
On November 6, 2017 In Sloth
How long since I’ve been in the cat? A go-going again. Let the flood lights of the union freeze the man ignoring Mayday. Here, darkness, pressed metal grunge. Fulton Street funked it up. Soul driven had me riven to the dance floor.
On November 3, 2017 In Sloth
Priceless. A gift. Cinema comfort seats, deco décor, thirty beautiful voices in splendour. A smoky grey floor length gown with shawl, two valour jackets, one emerald, one crimson. And then they opened their mouths like young birds and sang like old souls.