I purr her name deliciously, but dare not turn the page to read the words, preferring to believe the past is present in the future. I heard her playing yesterday beneath the window, but the room, of course, was empty; not even the piano. * She walked among the flowers depicted on the wall. She … Continue reading The Glass.
an uncommon vision 10x10" collage 2020 drawn back to the beach on a wave, she rekindles the flame with night reeds and saucers of bark. and, in the sparks, life arcs and she sees flashes - a path to the past or even an uncommon vision.
the prose she hones (analogue collage 06/11/20 10x10") The prose she hones all winter is wreathed in magic, sex and wonder. Come spring, will she, I ponder, still pen me essays of her darkest hour.
Almost Hallowe'en (analogue collage 6x4") 2020
Tail-end of October, scat rain on skylight glass, the loosest jazz all afternoon. Too soon the window darkens. Perhaps, in Friedrichshain (between the wars), I wonder, or Whitley Bay, for one more season, a matinée plays for someone taking tea and toast with honey. The street lights come on one by one, a standing ovation, … Continue reading Tea and Toast with Honey (in A♭)