Pebbles of Desolation X Beechnut gum from my tobacco pouch dusts these pitiful pulp magazines. Ol’ Morley waiting south to read, viewing southward, the papers and pencils and the heights wilt able in one day. My poor endeavoring human desk at which I sit so often during the day. I wave to all those snowyContinue reading “VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Morley Cacoethes”