Even if this picture was taken in the morning, it was bound to go forward, move, assault, and delve. To become night again is to admit to spoken verses, to pass through night is to turn hemorrhage into cachet.
5/11/10
There are...Tonight
Once I read a poem by a mate during my first year at UMass Amherst, titled "There Are Dogs Tonight." For some reason, I find it fitting for this picture. There are many things tonight. In my room, smell of blown candle, soiled socks, cable clutter, belching hard drives, of course no dogs, but outside some organism is jumping over the fence of the yard seeking something to nibble on.
Even if this picture was taken in the morning, it was bound to go forward, move, assault, and delve. To become night again is to admit to spoken verses, to pass through night is to turn hemorrhage into cachet.
Even if this picture was taken in the morning, it was bound to go forward, move, assault, and delve. To become night again is to admit to spoken verses, to pass through night is to turn hemorrhage into cachet.
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