Tuesday, December 2, 2008
streaked and smeared. pilliars of light form across the wet asphalt connecting me and everything. the cuffs of my jeans hug my ankles as i walk parallel with the blue line below. a grainy fog coats the sky with a slight hint of a merky moon glowing in the distance. the homeless stretch along market street under scaffolding. lifeless, yet restless. My head is still ringing from the rebel love songs of past generations that infiltrate my headphones and speak to my heart. Waits, Dylan, and Bragg- thank you.