2009-06-23
formless & forlorn
I travel in light under assumed names. It's the unassumed names I worry about--the names I carry and that stress what's left of my spine.
I am safe and nameless at night. I am faceless, formless, and forlorn in a field of static. The churches and liquor stores all play the same organ music until closing time. They all close down in a night that never closes.