at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month…

at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month…
my new little room here at school isn’t the same sort of place for melancholic composition as the bubble I was in last year But I get the sunrise. and I’ve filled it with my found-metal mobile and a secretary and orchids (there isn’t sunlight enough for anything else) and this is fine. the piles […]