1 He came back this time as a monkey: a macaque with a vague longing; an ache for a mate, for a cloud-capped, snowy mountain to retreat to, for the hot water springs there to bathe in. He hummed, as best he could remember them, the birdsongs from the ever-after. He came back. And, for … Continue reading As Thin As Holy Bible Paper.
The thinner spectre of the two, pale, serene and half in shadow, from the creases of the curtain, floats a plaintive lullaby - her song for sleepless children. "This plastic fort for painted cowboys. This tepee for a brave. This mountain range of books to read - ['The Kid took the reins and the … Continue reading Her Song For Sleepless Children.
January 8 1999 Walcott Street. The morning rain is heavy. A and I struggle our amps and guitars up Walcott Street toward the Hat & Feather where we have hired the back room to teach his brother, G, our short, Shit-Pop set for the Moles gig. When we get to the top of Walcott Street, … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island…26
