Odd that you bring this up. I had an aunt die two months ago and found myself at this same cemetery. I'm from DC (only recently relocating to Bal'mer) and had no idea half my mother's side of the family was buried here.
I'm tired and would love to follow someone, let someone else carry the load for awhile. I'd even pay them 10% (which seems to be the going rate). Problem is all I've run into is a bunch of schmucks who don't know inspiration from constipation.
Sailing into Dundalk I thought I'd land in Station North Charles Village, Hamden and cavort with artsy, fartsy, aging hippies hot, bespectacled, well-read women; given I'm a child of the sixties. Cozy up amongst the learned hit museums, theaters in Mt Vernon. At the very least compete on Federal Hil...
Welp, they say real poets write because they have no choice. So a good test would be to see if you can stop. Strap yourself to the mast and see if you're willing to chew through the restraints to get another fix from the pen. If it doesn't happen you can always become some mortal being like a critic...
I spied her at a Wendy’s and her misdemeanor too- the Pepsi that she never bought, the fist of straws she mooched. It set off no alarming bells to notify the police and with no witnesses, Miss "Dixie", high-tailed from the place. That “high-tail” blared filet mignon not burgers in a sleeve and Doubl...