Monthly Archives: June 2015

We’ll call em’ French Fries again

Cartoon drawings of profits splattered with blood draining from the wrists of artists pushing the limits tempting the reality of a world we’ve created since the crusades fought now by Muslim police officers dying in the streets to protect a country that sees no difference sees the same faces … Continue reading

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My letter to the IRS: War Tax Resistance

Originally posted on soitgoes1984:
The following is the letter I mailed to the IRS a few days before tax day about my reasons for not paying federal income tax. This is the first year since leaving the military that I…

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America, 2005

Broken levees and broken bones a decade gone without house and home there’s no place for the heart get high on the fumes of political art as jam bands learn to play amazing grace sweet old ladies try hemming superman’s … Continue reading

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Génération Perdue

We are a generation lost amidst the rubble of the                            world we                               … Continue reading

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Andalucian Red Wine: part I

Originally posted on soitgoes1984:
I took the midday train to Spain and found old women singing and dancing in the middle of the cobblestone street tapping their canes to the beat while kids splashed in fountains to spite the heat.…

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Las Barreras Full Moon

Two-thirty in the morning full moon-howling in this ghost town woke me up. I put my glasses on and wandered around the farm, through row after row of olive and almond trees, soaking up this late-spring wee-hours-of-the-morning moon illuminating the … Continue reading

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Andalucian Red Wine: part III

I lost myself in those endless fields of olive trees picture-perfectly framed by the window of that train as we cut across the Spanish countryside. I started to feel more alive my headache from all that wine began to subside by … Continue reading

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Andalucian Red Wine: part II

As the train pulled away she stood there, smiled and waved. She had bought my ticket out of town then gave me a euro to grab a churro just before the train came because I’d spent my last dime on … Continue reading

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Andalucian Red Wine: part I

I took the midday train to Spain and found old women singing and dancing in the middle of the cobblestone street tapping their canes to the beat while kids splashed in fountains to spite the heat. But then the rains … Continue reading

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