Nobody's creekbed

songs, prayers, poetry, stories, art, photographs, moving pictures, fondnesses, tall-tales and meditations

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The Anterior Insula and Hwy W

Sunday, October 16, 2005

They called him Little Smoky. He was always popular at parties, but you seldom saw him otherwise. He had a sharp taste, they said, and an even sharper, lasting aftertaste. He caused no small discomfort in certain people. On the other hand, some people could not get enough of him once they'd started in.

Get along, Little Smoky.