At the bottom
of a bottle
of mezcal
–like at the end–
waiting for us
is the worm.
I chew
in dry earth
that whiteness
of living hedgerows
to know
the taste
of what will eat me.
translated by Katherine M. Hedeen
there's nothing like stories
quiet moments in nature
Art and Literature Beyond Borders
A bird's eye view of St. George, Utah
Keep on Reading
Chronicling an ever-changing city through faded and forgotten artifacts
I read, rant and write ;)
Sono una donna libera. Nel mio blog farete un viaggio lungo e profondo nei pensieri della mente del cuore e dell anima.
The Green Lizard Log
Refresh and start a new chapter
A Discovery of Enlightening Insights, Information, Humor, Writings and Musings
Se non combatti per costruire la tua vita non ti rimarrà niente
THE RUSH HOUR BLOG
Becky Ross Michael: author & editor
We are all just babes in the woods.
Poetry, Opinion, Politics
Leonard Durso 