Love Trumps All

In a smoky room scented with bourbon and sweat I clasp my cards so tightly they bend.   This hand with its hearts, clubs and diamonds is everything. Whether good or bad, I bet on it believing the win or loss depends on the deal.   Finally, bereft, my chips...

Road to Freedom

Let’s take the Mother Road, Tasting en route the sparking-fat diners the creaky court motels, where we’ll lay waste to the flesh, and carve our initials in the illusion of love, Knowing the real thing waits within ignited by our Friend, Who’s driving us...