Tag Archives: Magic

October


It’s that time again. The world becomes dying yellow oranges. Night falls quicker and leaves fall onto sidewalks. Devils begin to open their eyes, stretch and smile after hibernation. Ghosts wander the streets. I walk down a busy Queens street, … Continue reading

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It’s Always Midnight Somewhere


It’s always midnight somewhere. Here? Not quite. But I don’t have time for details like that. I missed my mark, and one too many whiskeys have lead me here, watching the sun rise, thinking about the cat I had until … Continue reading

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Bright Stars Gone to Black


-I’m not alone in here. -Of course you’re not, I’m here. Says the blonde woman, flipping aimlessly through the hotel cable channels. Ghosts follow me. Some I knew before, others seem to be along for the ride. Guilt? I don’t … Continue reading

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Autumn


Summer is fading fast. The haze of summer heat is gone, leaving the sky a darker blue. It’s becoming autumn. The season where the street lights, stop lights, lit up signs seem softer, covered in gauze. It’s the season of … Continue reading

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On New York City and Magic


The city is alive. It breathes and bleeds, listens and sees. All you have to do is stop. Just stop. Then listen. The city is alive. Veins of subway tracks and streets and avenues. Surrounded by the womb of water. … Continue reading

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Eight of Swords


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Subterranean Home Sick Alien


Some poetry inspired by Radiohead. It’s not so much being alone… …it’s being adrift. Dancing with stars and creating galaxies out of supernova mindsets. Breezes, warm, flow through hair, and feet meet the sidwalk with a sullen step. I’ve cut … Continue reading

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