over two decades in the making.
a timeshifting autobiographical poetry collage w/photography.
a diaristic, nearly "daily writing" (ad)venture.
new pieces are posted most days..
**new and in progress** --
recordings of each poem are being added.
these are read by the author & posted to each poem's page.
--Del Ray Cross (contact delraycross at gmail)
Friday, October 23, 2009
ml
To sponge is to bludge. In which OMG has no oomph, becomes flat like West Texas. In bed with a coin, the thunderstorm makes air out of air and we breathe sex into sleep faster. Bludgeon the coins spun from sponges.
