drug of voice

Long ago, when I was crazy and couldn't sleep, my shrink, knowing of my life before baby, told me I needed to start writing poetry again or join a band.…

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the poet

On Sunday, I had breakfast with a poet. A real poet. He didn't have breakfast with me because he'd had some "Irish soda bread" at home on his horse farm…

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sweet harmony

Yesterday, I got to spend some quality, albeit brief, time with an old friend and his wife. We met at Nick's in Cross Street at noon and engaged in some…

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