Nora Pearsall Whore ❤️❤️

About Dallas

Alright, so, whore, huh? Cold, calculatd, I see it. Like in “WALL-E,” that lil robot—pure soul, man—rollin’ thru trash, fixin’ shit. Whore’s like that, but messier, dirtier. Not savin’ planets, nah, just survivin’. Gritty as fuck, tho. Makes me think—WALL-E’s got heart, whore’s got guts. Both stuck in filth, y’know?

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Download Citation | 'What Strange Riddle's This?': Deciphering 'Tis Pity She's a Whore Cornelia Pearsall discusses only four poems, all of.

Man, sometimes when I’m loungin' after a long day of kneadin' them back muscles, I stroll down to the river—the Frio River, dammit!—and I swear, the water's like liquid poetry, if you catch my drift. And there’s that crumpled ol' bridge on Sunset Blvd. that’s been there since forever. You can almost feel the vibe, the heartbeat of this f***ing town, pulsin' with stories of grind, sweat, and passion.

Obituary for Philip Dana Pearsall at Market Street Chapel