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Wednesday, April 19, 2006

There is the indecency of me having been asleep to thee too long.

I have shamed my angels with the slander of silence.

Friday, May 06, 2005


There's the desperate stench I am and again the desperate stench. I am become a presence of dread sentiment. Wouldst thou laugh now for me please? It's thy laugh I miss most if not my causing of it. Laugh at the silliness of my stench and sentiment. Laugh at that absurdity makes us something more than worms.

I'm missing an apostrophe.

Thursday, May 05, 2005

I have become the presence of dread sentiment.

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

It's always after midnight here.

It's always after midnight where you are.

Monday, April 18, 2005

What voice was it then had all that truth inside it may have been wounded by its own notes of mercy. There are some blessings come so puzzled one can hardly bear them.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

Under the Study of Angels 

The ways of angels drive men mad. This much is certainly known. Men driven mad in this fashion are stripped of their free will, rendered simple instruments worked by the whim of heavenly agents.

from Notes for a Study of Angels by St. Barabbas of Carthage

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

This is mercy mixed with thunderbolts.


I am filled then with the mercy of the thunderbolts that strike me.

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