some nights

just beg for one to stay up and read in them.

the leaves, by god. the leaves.

for sammie.

Long ago,

When my grandfather was a young man, he bought a shiny new rolleiflex to call his own. It made its way through many sets of hands, into mine, last week. I can already tell i'm going to love this new film thing.

home.

vacation, pt. 3

vacation is delicious.

vacation, pt. 2

still not done.

vacation, pt. 1

not over yet.

squares.

real original.

portland has its share of unenlightened graffiti. every once in a while, though, something lovely is created in its most frequented hot spots. on these weird, coveted surfaces, the unnamed intersection of innumerable desire lines, little useless dramas are played out in a visible history of tag and tag-removal, each in their haughty obliviousness accentuating the other in a piling-up of stupid retaliations.

morning, walk, home.

home-to-be.