Category: musing

but to learn something. the city that comes home to us, in newspapers’ (the optic) grim times, portend – there in the libidinal Cartesian streets that city’s oxymoronic “life” – smashed in windows of dressed up views. art as obituary. relations as anomalous compass. fangs facts strata statistic the coronary of expectation bursting what we… Continue reading no cure for sadness