Read the rest here.
There are strange things done in the midnight sun / By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales / That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, But the queerest they ever did see / Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge / I cremated Sam McGee.
Warholian: “Epilogue” at Hold Up Gallery
With our limping economies, the power flux between corporate giants, and the rover Curiosity landing on Mars, it could be said that the human climate here on earth is …
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It reminds me of this fifty-year-old family friend, the boyfriend of my father’s ex-girlfriend Elena. His relation to me is a mouthful, unlike his name: Hash. His last name, really. …