Etiqueta: poem

“What should I possibly have to tell you, oh venerable one? Perhaps that you’re searching far too much? That in all that searching, you don’t find the time for finding?”
–Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

  • Moscow Mule

    John Doe was a humble man. A blue-collared worker with a restless hand. Worked in a highway, east end 102. Sealing roads, chopping stone with a dumb’s man ox. Down home, laid. He’d play pool, act too cool for school. Come Johnny go get that fuel the one you get from a pill, coloured blue. […]