I would like to taste
Here on the tip of my tongue
The rare libidinous bloom
Of fresh sea salt
And bodily sweat
Mixed with the putrid flowering
Of yesterday's trash
And tomorrow's cologne.
I am logged in. It is Sunday, April 29 of the year two thousand and eighteen. I'm writing because I feel guilty for all of the books tha...
It's time for the annual year of reading review. There's a number of books on the list this year that really deserve a longer blurb...
Edgar Degas was obsessed with the female form. This much was obvious just from the few works that they had from him at MASP. I would go fu...
this has been copied without permission from the appendix of the 2011 edition of The Question of Separatism. It was conducted with Jane in ...