No. 5 · Harvest Time
We Killed Them
Artists don't sit inside all day to write and type and suffer, they play on their iPhones and Macs with dull eyes editing music files, remixing…
No. 5 · Harvest TimeTrying To Get Some Sleep
I could hold the sky in my palm, wipe it onto depth-less reality like an unguent cure in this after-night morning glow pink rising to a…
No. 5 · Harvest TimeAn Update to Today
Nothing seems more right then reading Bukowski while taking a shit; and why do all the little girls in Chinatown wear purple winter coats? Yesterday I…
No. 5 · Harvest TimeCherry Blossom Festival
outside the soft gray sky watched me mournfully, on page 419—which I turned to filled with a haunting feeling of sorrow, somehow knowing there would be…