cat puke dreams of San Francisco with two tone pigeons on the roof and dog hair in my mouth.
i laid down next to her in the floor and twice she pulled her hand away. washing off my mala in the sink before leaving, pedestrian incantations of protection as i walk to the station. i'm leaving on the train, unsure of my return to Manhattan, staring at John Jay's mansion on the hill.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment