Category Archives: prose-ack

met a guru (yogi, i should say) in a veil and a turban of white from L.A. last night she was a charmer too (is, i should say)   she asked us to do many strange things with our bodies, … Continue reading →

Frank Bullitt 1968 king cool is Steve McQueen blue eyes bleed intensity Mustang fastback green blonde screen idol in his prime just the uber-action man doing most of his own stunts driving hard in old San Fran   mob witness from Chicago … Continue reading →

violent volcano, Kilauea fuming lava red; molten, looming bug-eyed Balinese little ladies doing the bobblehead temple pimples popping in Burmese jungles are ancient but undead Ninth Ward mud post-apocalypse to Versaille’s opulence pristine old Mursi kings with torn lips are looking rather mean … Continue reading →