If a pin drops
in the forest
and there’s no one there to hear it,
do I even exist at all?
Tag Archives: writing
Night writing
While I write others work
One polishes a car.
One cracks an egg.
One sprays ammonia
on a cabinet of glass.
One sweeps.
One wipes.
One mourns.
I could call this blog
Wearing your insides on the outside
Or, The news no one notices
Utrecht Journal 