Penn Beacon. October 26th 2019 23:00 Home late last night from London. The train was slow, but I don't know or remember the reason given. I was exhausted from the journey, from the solid shape of work. I unpacked a bag and repacked it with different stuff. I downloaded my boarding pass, prompting the usual … Continue reading Run As Fast As You Can, Bear.
I rarely see myself in the day mirror anymore, having learned to disappear myself. The day mirror has become my third eye. The day mirror allows me to become magnificent, mercurial. I enter and leave it at will. Within its frame, I free range and, despite being close enough to kiss your ear, I look … Continue reading Mirror (1-3).
Night tiles rattle and street glass roils traffics of cars, faces and moon. But, no star arcs the raindrop, the shoeshined puddle, the paving, even. Trainbent, late, and suddenly lost. Of the first to cross the concourse mouth, I ask direction, but with sorry she passes without pause. A near full minute, then a … Continue reading Box of light.
I took the train home from the airport. It was the same journey as it had been earlier, except that now it was in reverse and I was alone, reflecting. The cloud was cold against the glass, a jet plane rose into the cumulus brew. I set my face, my ear really, against the window … Continue reading American Clouds & Greyhound Shapes.
Cromarty, Forth, Dogger, Tyne, toward these fields, we incline, a-settle & give rise, beneath the tumbled sheets of sea. We upstream. We breathe, we climb. We endeavour, we aspire to a sky beyond this ladder.
If all that remained on my screen was her filth, I would, at worst, still stand proud of a morn. And as fade became thrill, I'd sing the praises of bleach & the bleed of her film. If all that remained was the trace of her, the print or the stain of the milk … Continue reading If Whitman Sang Alabama.