standing, feeling the green felt of the pool table.
like flat grass.
flat cotten grass.
he lauphed when i told him what i was thinking. "felt is nothing like grass."
but i say "they are my thoughts and if you are going to put them down why did you ask?"
when asked where i live, i told him.
i live on the freeway. on the 60. between the white
(
Read more... )