Car exhaust drifts upward into the humid night air like lost balloons, from the hands of children. An over-weight woman unloads a pile...

“Don’t play what’s there. Play what isn’t there.” --Miles Davis It sounds so easy when Miles says it Be cool risk everything shoot...

Bodies shuffling in sundresses holding solo cups of warm beer pick up t-shirts from lawns and hold them up with one hand picturing them...

I plunged from the last rung of the rickety ladder that hung from the back of my father’s boat. I touched the bottom of...

Days past stand still like faded oil portraits: Dead paths. Bristle tracks. Trace the process with your fingers: Blur distinctions. Smear the...

The Philosophy Professor’s Sunflowers for James Campbell So, yes, in answer to your question, I have noticed that death is everywhere pouring out...