When You Can't Go Forward And You Can't Go Back

The thoughts, thunks, imaginings, phantasies, poetry, prose, essays and wordspasms of Donovan Volk, a despairing activist-writer who survives on eggs, potatoes and waxy apples. Much if not most is taken from life.

When the author is not sitting in a darkened room making letters into words, (and words into sentences) , he is standing by a highway trying to thumb a lift, slowly drinking in the silence in the forest or tundra, pursuing a great coffee in some smoggy pit or bothering the local and national authorities.

When the author is not referring to himself in the third person, he is referring to himself in the first, or sometimes to others in the second, or to the world at large in the first.

This book is a depository, always evolving, it is as polymorphous as an alchemists tube-flask. The bunsen burner to this alchemical process is always life, the oxidase; imagination. The substance; feeling.

I am sorry world, I will always let you down. Never will I quite do justice to the heights of wonder or the depths of despair that inhabit and fill up this globe. I can only do my best. Thank you for tolerating me so far.