Monthly Archives: October 2009

A row, your interrogator face

A row, your interrogator face and walk therapy. Too cold for massages and too dry for rain. Your excuses pile up; my excuses pile up. We’ve finished with this city before we’ve started. Sometimes I think about other girls. Sometimes … Continue reading

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A man has to have snow

A man has to have snow to write great things. His soul must be still, white, unmoving, must cover over every part of his existence like a great snowy blanket. Like the icy, unforgiving fingers of the Muse. On snowy … Continue reading

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We sweet Orpheuses

The Columbia has abandoned us, the Willamette, too; and the Guadalupe; and San Jose. And Portland. We’re abandoned into history. We’re run aground on a little island, but it isn’t really a little island — it’s a sea monster. Verily. … Continue reading

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