San Diego Reader

Winds fall! With sweet desolation! Courage is a big sun Where is the mainland? God and adventure All old sails fight rainy waves and unknown currents And in this night, Alas, I am all that is old and weary Surprised by nothing more than the sound of my own raspy tones

Like your codgers you amble over Clubbing, she emasculates toward home I should dash after He can last through some fires but not hells My stroke before Passes outward toward the wineglass A toast toward prose, pupose and eradication