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i never liked you. simple, but also smug.you stand tall and defiantbelieving in your beautyeven when i and others, surelyjoke that you’re the weed of roses no one wants you in a bouquet. you don’t scream “love” to anyone. or “thank you”, or “i’m sorry”. maybe that’s why i never liked you. you were always more...

when i wake up i just lay there and waitfor you, for you to roll toward me andstretch out your arm so i can roll into you and while i’m waiting, yes, sometimesi watch you sleep, don’t be surprised,there are songs about doing thiswe played them to each otheronce upon another time and i think it’s...

the prayer cards they give you at wakes pile up near the stack of mail that there’sno point in opening – you’re 90, quitpaying the bills, quit every damn thingyou don’t want to be doing with the timeyou have left. you’ve had enoughworry over money and people and time,you’ve iced bruises and wiped tearsand shit, thanking god...

The Morning War. Heat. Cigarettes. You know it’s going to be a bad daywhen the Times just gives up and says it’s hell, but we’ll keep on reportinguntil we’re hanged in the streets liketraitors to our country  Oh, how I would love to be ableto afford being a traitor to my country.To ditch work, hold signs, protest,knock on...

Quote of the Day: “I write only when inspiration strikes. Fortunately it strikes every morning at nine o’clock sharp.” – W. Somerset Maugham I’ve decided that if I am going to be doing this daily blogging on TK I may as well copy it over to my website, too and start a collection of thoughts that...