Pesquisa e Arquivos 
"OH WATERS, TEEM WITH MEDICINE TO KEEP MY BODY SAFE FROM HARM, SO THAT I MAY LONG SEE THE SUN."
- Rig Veda
Hemingway’s looking down thetwin-barrel of the shotguninto a blue metallic void.
Hart Crane has one foot on deck,the other over the rail,his eye on the ship’s boiling wake below.
Sylvia Plath’s on her knees in the kitchenwith her head in the oven,wondering if she paid the gas bill or not.
Richard Brautigan’s up in Bolinaswith a Saturday-night-specialnudged snugly in his graying temple.
Paul Celan looks down and seesone last despondent metaphorin the swirling waters of the Seine.
Lew Welch loads his 30-30 rifle,heads up into the California hills,unsure about when he’ll be coming back.
The ways in merge with the ways out,life’s complexity compounds daily,and no one’s getting any writing done today.