To dress in pink
I dress myself in ways of gays, to separate perhaps, or maybe as a checkered bee to be unfit for fits of fists. “I don’t like football”, said not in […]
I dress myself in ways of gays, to separate perhaps, or maybe as a checkered bee to be unfit for fits of fists. “I don’t like football”, said not in […]
For Barbie, a bath, is floating — not sink and everything’s better, if bubblegum pink. Thus finding a spa a place without flaw, Lake Hillier’s the place to take her […]
Pink was always your choice, and we argued about it many times. Now I realize it was the sore thumb that made paradise perfect. When I close my eyes I […]
Writing about living in two places (and times)
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
practising for a whole life
haikai poetry matters
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis