Thomas Hawk
MAGAZINE ARTWORK BY THOMAS HAWK
Unidentified Photo on the Internet
The seaweed men patrol the icy town with sticks wrapped in bumbergrass their hooked beaks hissing steam, eyes painted open against the twilight. They trudge the streets like shaggy marionettes, boots cracking glazed tarmac, past… [more]
Echo’s Bones
for Samuel Beckett 1 Come in, come in, the fog impatiently gestured. You rattled like echo’s bones when you walked. It was fashionable to die young and be pessimistic. 2 You were drunk all the… [more]