shepard fairey

ras

ras

ras

ras

ras

ras

ras

gustav dore

our boys

death and burial

wm

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Any Time At All



just call. I'll be there.

Well, the night was just about gone, hope
of sleep, far from fond, was digging
screws into my neck;

over the dogged uneven
churn of the air conditioner
came the penetrating oscillation

of the landline; the surprise of it
sending a shriek through my guts;
I was helpless. but when I said

 hello, I know I sounded
exactly normal. You said:

What's wrong with you?


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