The Monstrous Blank Page

You’ve been staring at me for weeks, you hobgoblin.

You son of a whore.

Mindless.  Voiceless.  Hole who looks back at me with mendacity.

I scream at you.  Poke at your chest. Scratch at you eyes.



—-   Two   —-




Rock back and forth on my heels.

Maybe tomorrow.  Maybe tomorrow.  Maybe Tomorrow.  Maybe tomorrow.  Maybe Tomorrow.

But I HAVE started; haven’t I !

I win.

Returning To Form – A Musical ChillOut

I’ve got to get back to my writing.  But not the way I was doing it before.  Follow me as we enjoy…   …   …music, friends, good food and drink…   …   …Life.