Bent and Beat
(a public journal)
wishard
the light was smoky
jaundiced
as your unmoving face
mostly, by their eyes
already gone
bone beads slipping slowly
through stained and shaking fingers
in the few words i knew
i said goodbye
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Smoke Signals (a bend blog)
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it is all space and flux
wishard
unsleeping and undreaming in the snowing and late ...
notes on a bluff road liquor store
if ever i had a doubt, arizona erased it
toward a dharmic infrarealistic layman's manifesto
a question of corners
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Bent Paradox
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