7:30 a.m.

yesterday










san miguel

i'm in love with you...






when i drive south

i rely on you.





from your pockmarked beauity






to your earthquake grandeur






i insist on stopping,

always...







they call you "the prince of the celestial militia"






and i imagine that






you insist on that, in your splendor

and decay





and quiet beauty





san miguel

this is my little love song