unfolded sheets and cornered pages, cobalt, rising from the blanket, found a world within the drawer - everything unpainted. the velour shadow of the curtain, quiet and thin and barely moving, bows before the wounded evening - everything unpainted.
some memory of blue clay, of buttered gorse, jutting bayonet of flint, half-hidden, always just an inch away, this very, very evening, returned again, beleaguered, beached and batchelor: palm of secret, saddened gems. the following adornments remain abandoned on the tidal floor waiting for me to discover them - a glass of sand, a special … Continue reading hinge of laughter.
this autumn morning, the same, almost so, as several in childhood, spent trying not to watch the bowl of oats and milk cooling on the sill. "waiting," he told me, "is a patient game." watching vapours reach for the ceiling. "the ancient greeks made shields from porridge. or was it the polynesians?" he … Continue reading re: ancient civilisations.
Someone has complained of the beach weed stench - this beach stinks is etched into a bench. Next to this someone has penned for consideration You a bitch and your mum is a fish • The queue for chicken bones, the hound shite footprints, the coven of the blameless, detail the carpet, the sand and … Continue reading Your colour schemes delight.
Hegemony Piccolo Knives Receipts Portland Bill Postcard From Kreuzberg Jackdaws & Witches * First gig since May. The Surf Cafe in Tynemouth. First on, as I like it. That way you don't have to listen to the other acts & get A) nervous, B) bored C) & D). The Surf Cafe is one of my … Continue reading cassettes @ Surf Cafe
7 [postcard]: portrait photograph of Walt Whitman (credited to Mathew Brady, 1860) Casey A thoughtfully sent this from Seattle. In the border frame she has written, brilliantly - v v Double ewe u u w Thoughtfully, because she is a good listener and, brilliantly, because marginalia is where she blends her work into … Continue reading Mirror (7): Three Christmas Mornings.
