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Friday, October 27
by
pogblog
on Fri 27 Oct 2006 02:46 AM PDT
One is, one supposes, with you and all the others, on the fulcrum of history, the cusp of history, a new constellation fraught with gigantic meaning, the blood, the song, the champagne in the blood, the sorrow as long as the shadows of late twilight.
Sunday, October 15
by
pogblog
on Sun 15 Oct 2006 12:52 AM PDT
How did I latch on to something that wasn’t there? How did it drive my days for a lifetime? Why was I so sure of the whole scene, the whole meaning? The scene isn’t there either. The meaning of dawning coal-to-diamond intensity was lurking there, but not this one sere precious leaf igniting and accompanying a lonely eternity.
How much of the rest of my life didn’t happen? more » |
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