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.
I drank Christmas tea this evening and it made me smile. A cinnamoned and gap toothed smile in summertime. I wondered, at the window of an old man, would the stars still be burning in fifty years time? And would there be Russian cake today, as advertised on a chalk sign in the town.
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.
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.
behind a bending fence, bowed and ivy veined, the sad garden grows, unbound, around your father's house. the vicar passes an envelope to you, pencilled with the word - piano - and begins to play something glissando. where flowers grew, fingers potted. ashes into earth and creasing paper: john 6: 1 - 14, we listened … Continue reading a continuous slide.
aired on the evening, his words are battle scarred and breathless, barely heard. but the floor, i note, begins to shadow.
