Your colour schemes delight.

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.

Side 2 of Beggar’s Banquet.

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.

Box of light.

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.

a continuous slide.

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.