we hold the head of our wounded messenger as the silhouettes of our gathering enemy b

walden freeman

uild on the horizon




once, i thought
my name is collapsing like my legs
twelve o'clock is an irish name
or a five o'clock shadow
of any doubt
that you had changed
oh, spell yourself asleep
win by any means, darling
your shoes will tap rotting floors
victor india charlie tango oscar romeo yankee

walden freeman

Maybe I should have called this one:

a minefield is no place to practice tapdancing, my idealistic and optimistic young comrades