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Wednesday, January 08, 2003

It is wet. It is slushy. It is receding. It is salty, and it is dirty. It was silent when first walked on, but now squishes, an unappealing squish. It once had beauty, briefly. It is snow in Hamilton.

posted by Jesse at 8:13 PM #

Places to Go

Twirling Round With This Familiar Parable

With The Sound of Breaking Glass

Brodie

Cybersaga

geonsoul.com

Moot Point

oblivio

Paul

Phil Ringnalda

reductio ad absurdium

sugarbooty

Victim of Formality