Goal shames the last epoch Until carted silently unadvanced to grave.
Author: Andy Adkins
“Elaborate Defiance”
Conniving lies dress broken worlds with spent gristle to accomplish fog.
Baskets of Imperfection
Telementations condition being much more than is acknowledged. firefox/ chrome http://stream-tx1.radioparadise.com:9000/rp_192.ogg till bug fixed
“Imperfect Baskets”
Telementations condition being much more than is acknowledged.
Mourning Light
Erred harms from stitched screams are silenced by choruses tuning best ideas.
Cousins
Bill Clinton fathered an illegitimate son during the winter of 1972-73 (me) whose gestation was kept hidden until the last moments. Raymond William Andrew Adkins is basically a third cousin to hillary clinton (a blood related aunt married his father and he was illegitimate) and was ill-considered until he participated in the birth certificate scam […]
“Lotus’ed to Happiness”
an unfamiliar easily noticed ament scowls to dear. Uptook regularly, the lark preferred summers’ overlooks, Sands, Sounds, & subterrained canals; they whisk anewing potlucks. Sundrops air longevity too bare for cubicled pots. Wincing waters keep no viol. Emote by brio as potatoes, turnips and carrots. Cloppiting clops are just that tuned by their ages median […]
“Repay ages of tears with ages of tears”
The subject line was actually used as my signature at http://www.indigogirls.com/bbs from september of 2004 until November 20th, 2004. Because the Clinton library opened with the sun blocked out and rain falling from the sky, I decided to change my signature at their site. The featured photo was captured by a daily advertiser photographer (http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/73891816/6978472) […]
“Before the Law” by Franz Kafka
Before the law sits a gatekeeper. To this gatekeeper comes a man from the country who asks to gain entry into the law. But the gatekeeper says that he cannot grant him entry at the moment. The man thinks about it and then asks if he will be allowed to come in later on. “It […]
“On an Unknown Country” Hilaire Belloc
Ten years ago, I think, or perhaps a little less or perhaps a little more, I came in the Euston Road1–that thoroughfare of Empire–upon a young man a little younger than myself whom I knew, though I did not know him very well. It was drizzling, and the second-hand booksellers (who are rare in this thoroughfare) were […]