February 22, 2012
You’d Better Run
Prone was never the way I pictured Isaac, proving yet again: of altars, I am all but ignorant. Of course he was tied with the soft side up, simpler to cut with that which makes us human. Take this bird outside of the luncheonette, the one with the kettle- fried chip in her beak. She’s unable to break it small enough to eat, and so is blessed in her own way, lacking the nerve or knowhow to hunt what’s hard. Me, I favor gruffness. I like military haircuts. READ MORE >>
