Inner Dialogue

Summer, the era of the self, is over, and the academic year begins.  Narcissus goes into hiding in a cave by the border, lurking, perhaps to infiltrate one’s apartment in the wee hours when the cops have stopped cruising.  The docks and harbors in Tacoma undulate with aimless slow motion, train whistles echo, and the museums of downtown collide up against one’s vision, testament to … Continue reading Inner Dialogue