Tuesday, November 18, 2003
JOURNALLING! A LOST ART???
Taken like a subway ticket, I stare in abject silence at my dinner. The thaw has come off of the microwaved meal, and it sticks there like limp lasagna in my craw. When is a journal like that meal? When its writer limps along like a lame hare teasing some poor tortoise to death with his...
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