shepard fairey



ras

ras

ras


ras

ras

ras

ras

gustav dore

our boys

death and burial

wm

Thursday, September 10, 2009

You Could Say That I Wasn’t Watching My Back


or you could say I just slowed down. Either way it’s the dust clapper
for this kid. Brimstone tickles my nose. And makes my eyes run.

The quickest way home is seldom the best. Nor is the longest to
envy. Not even the truest path has much to recommend it.

Weirdness and whimsy seem best to carry the day. In that vein,
I offer this, Pilgrim, a rest for your head at the end of the day,

a warm spot for your feet.


No comments: