Night rattles the tiles, the street glass roils, reflects traffics of cars, faces. Moon, too, yes. But, no star arcs in raindrops; shoeshine puddles even the paving. Trainbent, late, and suddenly lost. Of the first to cross the mouth of the concourse, I ask direction, but with apology he passes without pause. A near full … Continue reading box of light.
the very last words that she heard were, “hey, man! they’ve just landed!” it was late one night in ‘69 we laid her out on a big blue blanket. we carried her down to the beach through the town, there was a storm brewing on the atlantic. the needle dropped down and i heard the … Continue reading Side 2 of Beggar’s Banquet.
you dreamt this, she said. i had a trick involving string, a snide loop, a special knot. i had learned it from my dad - seen it once in 1970 something. every magician needs an assistant, be they beautiful or a drunken old shepherd with hoof coloured teeth and field hands. but he had a … Continue reading Bloodline
pulling the compilation tape, that she had lovingly made, from the dashboard of his fiesta, he wished he’d never even met her. he sent it streaming out the window. how he hoped he could forget her. this tape contained the kind of music that he’d really tried to love, or even like. but found … Continue reading it’s complicated.
i'll wear your clothes to protect me, to feel like you do. humming vaguely in the bathroom, i will pause at the glass, hexed. exchanging a borrowed view. we really should get going soon.
celtic fires on this hyrne or horn, this gifted tongue of kent, still dream of trade armadas in the offing, above the stove of timbers. turnstones on the shore ungravel kilned penny pipes and pins and shingle, a bronze of barnes wallis and some kid skimming stones.