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when the sun goes down, I think of Charles Bukowski
I like to imagine what he might think about the world today. Not that I knew the guy, it’s just an interesting exercise.
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the road
You’re driving out of California and trailing a storm, the road still wet from the rain that passed ahead of you. The backroads you take to get from your small town to the big interstate are covered in mud, having recently been under water.
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The Pukening
Before we boarded the boat, signs were there that things might not go well.
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Manifest Destiny’s Child
Clear cold water crashes against the craggy coast and sprays barking seals lazing on white beaches. Dramatic cliffs drop to sea level, giving way to farmland filled with avocados, strawberries and artichokes.
