I don’t want to be a tree; I want to be its meaning. — Orhan Pamuk, My Name is Red. (Vintage; Reprint edition August 27, 2002) Originally published 1998.
We can’t be seen together. Our paths are separate. You belong to the butcher, I am an alley cat. You eat from a nickeled plate. I eat from the lion’s mouth. You dream of love. I dream of bones. But your path isn’t easy either, pal, Not easy To wag your tail every godforsaken day.… Continue reading Orhan Veli Kanik