In tree blown slippers’ nightingale gauze she remembers awake a squawk murder of angels zither less crave of field crows Grafts feathers fallen (one two other) some sewn into her hair sleeves woven limb to laurel leaves plunking gut strings above her head Want: haloes of glass beads the kind drunk girls noosen their necks […]
Agarwal kept a signed Yankees baseball bat hanging on the wall in is his office, and whenever he needed to concentrate, he’d take it down and fondle it, like those little stones that dufuses keep in their pockets, for when they get worried – and worried is exactly what all of us junior guys at […]
