The night out
by Eduardo Ramos | November, 2005 | ?: texts | No Comments The night began innocently. Like children we sat on a balcony five floors up from the earth. I contemplated the moonlight refracted in a puff of smoke, a little poof that mixed with the warmth of breath to color the sky with its cloudiness. The time came to roam, and to the streets we skipped [...]whose reading [?]
by Eduardo Ramos | October, 2005 | ?: concrete, texts | No Comments not sure who’s [whose] reading [?][...]. but from time to time it is nice to carve your name upon the pumpkin tree. I remember way back when. I suppose most people do[n't]. We could see the world as white paper. or not at all. do [you/We] remember? perhaps it was so clear, so emtpy. so quiet. now is there noise on silence? why[?]! I [...]lay off my fotchpak, you big palooka
by Eduardo Ramos | June, 2005 | ?: poem, texts | No Comments It was noon and the scallywunches were dillying through a large, brambled meadow of wheapnipples. Treading about griplessly, dwindling their cares around the smell of gripplecrag and horseshoes, they went about the day with reckless wheatabix. By evening their foppledunks had sweened the entire skyface of Alblama, and little was left for their steps to callhollow [...]
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