Cobbles wait to be trodden.

Cobbles wait to be trodden.

Butterflys flutter by

this crooked flower twisted yellow tortured body

Big noise from Winetka lingers on my left in the ear blown out along the road.

Framed art fills my mind

When a man gets on the Beluga Caviar, well....

To the well one last time.

well water's run dry

well met

as well as message poems

"fingers of the sun"—as well as on stone slabs.


according to a well-known anecdote, a cobbler detected a fault in the shoe of a figure




as well

as well.

My mind is too well-written.

Says Huang-po says

men fear forgetting their minds men,

fear falling men

fear men

fear falling


my mind

thots lernd

so well?