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.
Last night, they sang hymns in Kiev; this morning, they sandbag the malls. Saturday, schoolboys with rifles. Sunday, late shoppers man the walls. The sky burns bright - pale blue to blush to red - obliterates the stars. Commuters, to the metro rush; but no buses, no trains, no cars... come, unfriendly bombs, rain fire … Continue reading They Sang Hymns
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