January 2011
1 tag
Of L.L.
There it is. At least the up-to-day (today) version.
It was borderline 24th of January when the prehistoric, mangled creature of a phone ringed. “Have you heard the news,” she said. “No.” “Luke is dead.”
Those words fell. Unrecognizable haze. The limitations of language that will never bring anyone closer to what sort of ‘raw’ it was. It was...
“And there’s no mystical design,
No cosmic lover preassigned....”
– Tommy Gnosis
