The Night Book

  • "Everybody gets corrupted...

    Posted: May 15, 2008, 6:32 am by Levari
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    "Everyone gets corrupted...", originally uploaded by levari.

    ...you have to have a little faith in people."

  • Portrait of A Bookstore Owner (The Dying Breed) - 4/08

    Posted: May 13, 2008, 8:03 pm by Levari
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    Portrait of A Bookstore Owner - 4/08, originally uploaded by levari.

  • Grandmom - Beatrice Farber - 1940

    Posted: May 10, 2008, 5:58 pm by Levari
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    Grandmom - Beatrice Farber - 1940, originally uploaded by levari.

    To All The Lionesses all over the world,
    Happy Mother's Day.

  • Ode To Irony

    Posted: May 9, 2008, 6:43 am by Levari
    our shield,
    our laughter,
    our camouflage,

    our public success,
    our hidden tears,

    our shining mask,
    our deepest fears,

    our passionate fatalism,
    our sophisticated cynicism,

    our war without peace,
    our acceptance no grief,

    our buy
    and
    our sell,

    (write it!)
    our lie.

    -4/07
  • 3/06

    Posted: May 7, 2008, 4:07 am by Levari
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    3/06, originally uploaded by levari.

  • When My Desk Got Away From Me...

    Posted: May 5, 2008, 4:43 am by Levari
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    When My Desk Got Away From Me..., originally uploaded by levari.

  • Brattleboro Exchange

    Posted: May 1, 2008, 4:44 am by Levari
    You had dreams
    but they slipped away
    so quietly
    that we failed to notice
    until we had stacked
    them up in boxes.

    Standing now,
    years later,
    along these tracks,
    sun beaming down,
    through the thin, blue air,

    black birds overhead,
    two of them,
    slicing south
    through the
    north wind,

    then landing on the
    flashing crossing light
    to pick and clean each other's
    wings.

    The train pulls in.
    The birds scatter.
    I board for you
    to take us further.

    Sitting with my back facing front,
    wheels churning,

    rust stained snow,

    past lakes outlined in white,
    past abandoned houses,
    and houses that should be,
    and all New England's playgrounds
    buried in the ancient ice;

    where have you been,
    where once was your home?

    What am I looking for?

    Where you have been,
    where once was your home.

    Always following your tracks,
    that is all I ever did,

    Waiting for our eyes
    to whisper to me:

    where you have gone,
    where once was our home?

    A long time ago

    we,

    the deepest sleep beneath,
    this always onwards,
    though we only ever
    sit facing backwards,
    always will be my way home,
    you.

    ~Burlington, VM to Amherst, MA - 2/96

Blah blah blah

Fish cakes

Alas a fish cake.

Yet more fish cakes

Guess what ... yeah ... fish cakes.

The end of the fish cakes


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