Red Weather by Jack Harris Lately the hedge rows stand tongueless and borning, Un-stranged by the passing of sheers, These people so prim, with their button-down warring, Blanch with the heat of their tears, By and large I was dreaming in dances un-rhumbad, Wheels they were giving me queues, I was filling these hedges with flowers un-numbered, Ribbons and Red Weather shoes. Lady your satin is...
^ 02/11/2011 →
In November I go to the Venice Biennale. Cannot wait.
Today is my first day at university. I’m terrified.