In this window, dried driftwood burns on the beach. And in this window, camellia seed scents the sheets. And, in this window, silhouettes arc and cartwheel and leap. In this window, bells peal and the moth on the duvet counts sheep. They sense they are too far away to inhale all these … Continue reading Silhouettes.
Fragile, frozen-fevered breath I drew the room’s aroma in and out and in and all around this shell the world contracts, begin again. I patch the cracks & map her continent across the ceiling. And there, I trace the shadow hours’ passing. We explore imagined regions with thumbs and gummy fingers, rabbit heads … Continue reading Settle/Smelt Iron, Star & Prism
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.
schedule. hard <c> soft <c> affrictions.
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.
“Come hither” is the pylon’s dare. Its hum is above, beyond & everywhere. “God forgot this pallid scratch of scrubland.” "So, stare me down,” I say. It shrugs its shoulders & bares its teeth. It tongues the air. It thumbs me. Unrelenting, this autumnal glare: low sun & tree bark, hidden. There is … Continue reading Come Hither.