Devon Brock is a writer, linecook and optimistic pessimist living in the middle of nowhere with his wife and dog. He spends much of his time observing bugs and lichen, considering the slow drag of time.
Mellifluous these bowered years: / honeysuckle on a young boy’s tongue / unaware that each pulse lapped
O! Barren land, hold me in winter, / stripped of all passions. / Let me,swollen with the vaults of summer/ recede, vast and unobliging.
