seaside towns, love break downs. location and relocation. sunset, star rise. moonshine. landscape, passage, sound. all the elements are sessioned. see. hear. feel. time. * "We're playing tonight at the Klub Foot." "Uh-huh. What sort of thing d'you do?" He considers this in the mirror. The scissors flashing. "Mm, Oh, XY. Zed. Ampersand? Shoe gaze, … Continue reading post shore gaze.
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.
Sunshine, honey the length of South Street, blessing nearly every pale shape there. Sunshine smears the terraces with a liberal ease and the windows cannot help but grin. The market is near gridlock with browsers, dawdlers: a mix of locals and grockles. Pushchairs and trolleys chariot. Shopping bags and shoulder bags tangle, and endless people brush. … Continue reading Elvis Mirror.
the air stirs with rumour of the submarine halved in the harbour. brows furrow and palm-flattened charts appear. below the sheltered walls, an aria - an iron-throated chorister. archaic; rises, floats, fades, and disappears. (photo: nick reeves - south shields pier)
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.
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