Memory of June little tomato ringing a June memory November at peace Photograph © D Young
Photograph by Diana Young. . You like that dreamy, what she called it, sky with fingers tickling out laughter or something else .
the french call it a scierie which I like the sound of it’s more like what a saw sounds like seeee-reeee when it slices old wood at dawn or anytime
He’s a junky for the tune. He can’t kick it, the kick he gets, like one Saturday— he was ten —and the Governor came to town to see his father, drove all the way from the capital like he would do once in a while ’cause they were friends, pals really, the Governor and his... Continue Reading →
Photograph by Diana Young. The Irish Channel. Coliseum Park. And Louie waits for the sun to cross behind the oaks. Even thin shade should grant some relief. He hates stake outs. Watching, waiting, smoking, pissing in beer bottles, farting into the car seat cushion so rank with the year. All this is made worse when... Continue Reading →
years of development the great disappointments finally graze with gift stupidity what else do you want