Crude Ink
HERE IS WHERE I DRILL FOR PURE AND UNREFINED INK WITH NOTHING BUT GRIT AND A PRAYER. I BANISH ALL RUMINATION, COAT MYSELF IN MUD, LIMBER UP FOR WRITING WITHOUT POLISH, AND STRIKE NEW FICTION. ⛏️
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- Sep 5, 2026
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WEARING RUBBER (opens the original)
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You’ve changed a lot since you were a tiny dry-looking guybefore I put you out in the garden for June and July –now you have a firm handshake of leaves on each side I wish I was the right size to sleep buried in the fat slick digits like bugs do. I think about throwing my own arms around to hug you,it’s an impossible dream –c’est pas possible –I would crush you.
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