Tuesday, September 26, 2006


To love is an exquisite pain
Being loved is only half as interesting.
Life is a great big booze party
Death seems to be the hangover.
Undying love requires the peculiar passion of youth
Then over the years, it becomes an occasional feeling.

Friday, September 08, 2006


A hot shower
A worn out silken scarf
Chicken broth and toast

The smell of well bound books
And Linseed mixed with turp
The light at the end of a wakeful night,
Tobacco, toils and burning eyes

Simple pleasures are the only luxury the complex can afford.