ON THE MAN WHO ASSAULTED ME YESTERDAY

And then sometimes I question if by writing at all I am too at odds with nature. Walking and filming the man who randomly assaulted me yesterday for miles through Hollywood until he took a northbound train to end my documentary. Trying to make sense of anything. I was able to nurture the boy in me who would have cut him years ago, but that doesn’t mean we slept well last night.

What are the clouds saying? It looks like rain from every angle. Then I take out my pen and try to shape them into some...