1949 6 1
|
It was too late to be eponymous. I was happy enough to be an emulator. But even then, my ideas were nothing but re-runs of re-runs. Like a high-school production of Macbeth.
|
100101
|
... threads are nasty things / That snag and pull and tear the cloth / And will not let me be.
|
127130
|
“Listen, Mother – you’re my ticket out of this burg and I’m not about to cash it in!”
|
13611310
|
I see my siblings once a year when we all show up, as if required by law, to eat Thanksgiving dinner. It is apparent with every bite how much they hate each other.
|
