written by PAUL T. CORRIGAN Ahab runs loose The pirates chase AhabThe gods chase Ahab The whale chases Ahab Ahab chases Ahab But I say unto youYea, yea, the rope…
The Forerunner
Like a golden lamp raised at the desert’s edge,
his fiery eyes flash from the horizon.
When I Hear That You Are Dead
I have the urge to send you
an email.
Bach in Köthen
As to the hide, how long till scrapers can be set aside and chamois cloths and brushes taken up? As to stitching, how much hemp, how many holes will keep…