Prose poems seen and heard through Charles Springer's Window over the Sink let in dawn sometimes dressed as dusk and open up to sounds that somehow scale between din and damper. They walk and run you down a road, skip you across a street and occasionally lift you up in an air with no airport in sight. Most have as subjects someone or something you know or don't know you know until their eager telling.
Prose poems seen and heard through Charles Springer's Window over the Sink let in dawn sometimes dressed as dusk and open up to sounds that somehow scale between din and damper. They walk and run you down a road, skip you across a street and occasionally lift you up in an air with no airport in sight. Most have as subjects someone or something you know or don't know you know until their eager telling.
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