At the end of the rope, there’s hope
Is what the flame-eyed man said
On the edge of the homeless shelter bed
He’d seen it all, he explained, and each
Of us is a grain of sand in an expanding
Universe that’s interconnected
All a string in a vast spider web
Here’s a piece of flash fiction I wrote a couple of years ago that, I suppose, is semi-autobiographical. It’s about loneliness and the yearning for human connection.
Continue readingShe glowed in the sticky street,
cigarette hanging from ruby-red lips.
I wandered among musicians, drunks,
strip clubs and bachelorettes in sparkled masks.
Continue reading
