Louisville. I recognize these city streets. I lived here once for several years. This is the corner the bus drops off the grifters who collect $20 a day from college freshmen. Over here is the coffee shop called The Night House by the sleep-deprived who drink black coffee at 2am, and then again at 3…

A silence rings hollow in the bell-tower each afternoon. I can hear it ringing truthfully from my den where I’ve established, a little nest where I can come and forget that only corpses sit in the pews. Only corpses sit in the pews, and any statistic will beget that as many as 10,000 pederasts are…

The stars are out the sliding door and I’ve been told why it is they seem to sparkle. Their positions are not defined. They vibrate between states and to turn a microscope on the macroscopic is to find these stars popping out and popping into the void, little holographic gluons in your telescope. Make of…

The jungle floor undercut with gnarled twisting roots, ankle-snappers, watch your foot, through the verdant thick that’s only green with promise, and when the sun sets the dark is impassable – but there is no time to sleep, step by cautious step hands feeling along the jungle floor. Some days the sun’s high but the…