September 10, 2010
In my mind I want to be one of those people who has great, vast shelves full of books; books that smell like dust and raw history. It seems romantic, erotic. I want to have sex against them, hoisted up on one of those rolling ladders lost in the moment, in unbridled passion; [...]
Read the full article →
May 7, 2010
I have a homeless Uncle. He also, as it so happens, is a writer; of sorts. It makes being a writer a difficult thing for one to embrace, this having of the crazed-homeless-writer-Uncle. (Please, no, ‘I’m so sorry about your Uncle’ business. He’s been homeless as long as I can remember, will continue to be [...]
Read the full article →