
by Cat Jones
Class war torn
cliff faces
Rusted rebar skeleton bone and cracked paint scaffolding
Cool enclaves in the rocks
Broken concrete caves
Hiding bars and green walls and shadows.
Secret pathways.
Yellow sand
Quiet wind
Empty sea.
Mourning streamers drift all black and thin behind me
I am a ghost.
And I walk with a cane
To bear the weight
Unbearable
Because you are gone
And I am numb to the roaring maw
Of my heart gulping water
From the sea.

another favorite
[…] wrote about it here and there. (Well, and also there, and there and there and there and there and there and, like a buncha other places.) And for eight years, […]
[…] desert as we could get. (I have written about, and painted, this unlikely pilgrimage here and there over the years, trying to parse out some of the meaning.) That beautiful, surreal, and – to […]