dreamland

this is not what dreams are made of.
dreams are not glamourous.
they are simple.
red brick houses
bread cooling on the counter
sunshine
soft clothes made of cotton
dirty bare feet jumping into the lake.
keep your glitter sequins bright lights big city.
keep your sportscars limousines convertibles.
keep your drinks designer clothes outrageous sexual encounters.
I want dirty bare feet tracking mud onto the [...]

The Running of the Pheasants

Over the years my father has had many hobbies, some stranger than others. These range from fishing and golfing to scuba-diving and collecting cookie jars (he calls them an investment). But the longest running hobby, and also his favorite, in my opinion, is hunting. From what I know, he has ventured out in pursuit of [...]