drifting sands
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Your humble narrator speaks from a deep cavern, a lonely chasm of sorrowful legacies and charred ambition. This is no happy place of wonder, instead a frozen waste and illimitable desert of hope. Nobody stares into this particular abyss and concurrently, I have no one to stare back into.
It is the season of the wolf, at last.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Mounting storms and threatening seas stretch out to and occlude all horizons, and a vastly indifferent universe spins along its axis. The air smells of something, perhaps some sort of solvent or maybe house paint, and the water has a taste. Water should not have a taste.
Maybe it is time to go.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
World weary, diseased, likely insane. Outsider, shunned by those who bask in the light, pariah. One can only hope for the sandwich board signage of the doomsayers, or the ashen cloak of the hermitage. Hope is extinguished, the light fades. The village dogs are scratching at my door, and slaver hungrily for delight.
Perhaps it is time to allow them to feed.
Also- Upcoming Newtown Creek tours and events:
for more information on the October 27th Newtown Creek Boat Tour, click here
for more information on the November 9th Newtown Creek Magic Lantern Show, click here
for an expanded description of the November 11th Newtown Creek tour, please click here
The Newtown Pentacle 
come hang with us at the Ridgewood Democratic Club You’ll feel better about your lot lol really like what you do Tom
tinnertom28@aol.com
October 26, 2012 at 3:40 pm
Mitch. Have you ever changed a wax ring on a toilet? I’ve always believed that before one graduates from high school that this valuable skill be learned. No diploma until this proficiency is proved. It has household hydraulic as well as metaphysical import.
georgetheatheist
October 26, 2012 at 4:59 pm
Mitch are you okay? Is your writing so dark right now because it’s around Halloween?
I am sincerely asking the question.
lori raymer
October 26, 2012 at 6:13 pm