Being shunned by institution is like a hot coat in summer. Shrug out of it and be cool.

And keep writing, I tell myself. From this am, came: (re syberia.)

The streets are barren
The light lum low
The night crawls slow
and gloomy

I trip tumble roads
With tamped down spirit
I need to ferret
This tomb free

Some vacation.
I need civilization!

Could this be a bridge???

Last edited by Bill Draper; 02/05/26 03:52 PM.