https://boundharepress.com/products/dilapidated-desperado
...Moments we twist into Memory...Tawdry twinkles of Madness...Rip-a-Wrecked-Out-Read...Raucous Adventures, Wastrel Romance & other Gnarly Deatils. From High Peaks to Lowland Swamps, Big Cities To Tiny, Nowhere Towns; Elevated & desolate Trails, Cuttin' through Lost, Wildlands...Lots of Lust and Plenty of Bizarre Episodes that took Guts...Tales from Grim Green-Room Barrels, hell-for-Leather Rambles and the Odd Beauty of a waggish bro-migo, Runnin' Down the line of the American Girind....Nicholas Viglietti
A writer, sentence Slinger, Ramble Ripper, and a Warped Truth Teller on the weird side of Lines of a chill-migo poet…Livin’ on the slim side of large in Sac-Town, CA.
After Katrina ravaged the gulf coast, he rebuilt homes there for 2 years. Up in Mon-tucky, he cut trails in the wilderness. Overall, Nicholas worked 3 years Under the Americrops Service Program.
In Humboldt , He bucked Hay, Carved Waves, And Earned a Degree Despite All the Haze, Behind the redwood Curtain. He pedaled from the cap-city to S.D. He’s a seventh-life party-hack, attempting to rip chill lines in the madness….
…A genuine pro, when it comes to Stayin’ chill, the empty end of planks, Brazen Guts & Nail Biters…Thanks for scrollin’ my world and rippin’ a Read of my warped rambles….
…hopefully, on the Sling of these sentences, there’s a line that strikes you like a lighting Bolt, and it gets ya through those moments that make you linger & mope, lose hope, and come to the edge of barely Able to Cope…
…All it takes is a Phrase…the cadence of Words, the stroke of the flow that alters the perceptions that had Gave up on the day.
Wastrel Rips & Devil-May-Care madness
Snag a Copy…Rip-A-Read…..
…enjoy the cadence, like river-banks and beer-floatin’ radiance…some snips have got meaning…other rips…well, are meant for dreaming…and, to be honest, these rambles are just plain, funny reading.
What’s the worst that can happen…You learn some new Rhymes & fun Words….
Purchase a copy & shoot me a line & tell me about it…the good, The Rough, the Sublime…stay chill, babe-a-citas & Bro-migos.
Dilapidated Desperado: On the Chase for Long-Shot Horizon Lines
This collection of poems is a smattering of the illimitable crave for the search...there’s no culmination, no finality. We are temporal flesh, pumping the blood of our hot mess, and we expect this point to hit. Where that's it, we made it, and we ride the relaxation view of the sunset. Not the case, never was, and never will be. These poems, some contemporary, some reflective notes from running like a madman around the nation, all meld together to hit that point of wisdom that lets our skulls sleep easy at night, no matter the bed we decide to repine our heads.
$13.95
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“...At the root of our guts
We are faded chances
In the end...”
“...that frigid river floats, and there are hearts that struggle to pump a purpose of a beat, out on the rotten stretch of cement, scabbed top of flatland streets... ”
“He would go to the bar with us, but his liver didn’t have our stamina.”
“It runs fresh, straight off infamous slopes of cannibalistic mountains.”
