You Have to Get Lost Before You Can Be Found Jeff Rasley Pikey Peak base camp is a yak herding station. Our group of three trekkers from the US and staff of seven Nepalese were camped there in anticipation of climbing the mountain the next day. We were on our way to Basa village […]
Read Morehuge high school crush i saw a woman that reminded me of this huge high school crush i had how quick she turned away as i was looking convinced me even more that it could be ——————————————————————- a couple trendy items writing a poem in the same restaurant i used to write in a quarter […]
Read MoreThe Wall Sitting at the nurses station watching as time passes with no where to go. Sitting there watching as the nurses passes out medications to others then me. Pills after pills and blood pressure monitors inflating and deflating with a ding to tell them your pressure is high and then there’s more pills for […]
Read MoreThis / isolation is / subsequently followed by Galleries are no longer free which is a drain on spatial navigation. What kind of aggressive tech- niques are used to ensure they did not die in vain? I have antiquated some of the bulk purchasing for schools — let’s see if that does the […]
Read MoreIf You Pause Deer trail crisscross my childhood path in the green hills of California, folding themselves into creases in the front yards of Witchweed and Valley Oak. In the damp far below, I hear the highway hiss, its glissade slowed by the tug of spring grass. It slithers on its belly ribs, flicks its […]
Read More2018 Gains and losses, this moment of looking backward, worried that, like Lot’s wife, I will be made salt in a moment. A cold snap, the feeling of new travels. Yesterday is as one hundred years ago, each year, something peels away, replacing past harms with divine trust. We move forward, press on, through mud […]
Read MoreKitchen The kitchen doors swing open, revealing that darkened carpet, a comfort we couldn’t afford to tread upon. The smeared dishes over-pouring from the cracked sink, the customers’ cries blotted out by the sizzle of fat and over-heated ovens. On that tiled floor, the essence of this town passing me each minute, my fingers sliced […]
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