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or do I find

myself knee high

in nihil

certainty slips shady


the fierce friend’s warm counsel

falcon sky realm rip

that truth

bribes its endless standins

past fuckups post

burning dues lump

my abdomen

a yellow sun lit white & forest flowers

lost their juice speak

cornball yankee sapsongsing


& didn’t mandela die in ninety somethin nother




About a. edward watkins

With the exception of 2 years study of western music theory and harmony- I am a self taught percussionist, writer and abstract painter. Not your drummer boy drummer - not your writerly writer nor the painterly painter. Creativity is an integral aspect of my existence - as it is for us all - in some form or another. My experiences in life have informed and shaped my world view profoundly. I am the disrupter - the never quite satisfied - the relentless creator of word, sound and image. I question the answers and question the questions.

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