Noticing
I know where the spoons go now and the mugs. Afternoon-slow. The first weeks meandered, chipped ceramic mugs wobbling with hot tea. You hum to the tap tap tap of the knife, noise lost in thick, citrus air. You leave the butter on the shelf so that it stays soft. Home of turned backs, [&hellip
fragments: a series
11.5.22 18:08 [the fear/the hope] to be good to be bad to be forgettable to be unforgettable social experiment 20.5.22 13:38 [part-hearted] unhinge me, move me i am already undone put me back together, but leave me alone! pull me up, down, turn me inside out you lift me up, can spin me roun
Temporalities
i. The Louvre, Paris and we are gilded spires opaque pearlescent rounds smooth skimmed surfaces you could hold under your tongue set into a crown and call jewels. a feeling of falling mid-breath, a hazy periphery and a spotlight. we are tilting, scintillating in light slowed in mind’s
The Angler
The angler, taken in isolation, waits in preparatory study, his rod cast out and off the edge of the tall tide, which nearly banks the sky. The brown of the grass seems to climb station and cloaks his closed frame in an ascending glow of rust. The scene is not new. The […
Scenes from the North
I We wrestle wind of Irish Sea Atop red raw sandstone, And gusts that wail like ghostly gales, A far, far cry from home. Grass purls, The fading coastline hurls Past tales, Crashing from mouths of caves. All of it now a memory, Washed out and veiled by waves. II In valleys hollowed by [&helli
Infestation
“Even now as the latest mealy-mouthed apology stumbles out of one side of his mouth, a new set of deflections and distortions pour from the other.” – Keir Starmer, April 2022 Flea sits beside Cockroach and fingers his ’tash, Discussing fiscal matters of raising cash. He’s scheming t
Portraying
Hetta Garber had been his muse. She was sitting on a divan, watching him paint her. If she leant back far enough and looked in the mirror above her, she could see herself shimmering for a moment before the trick collapsed and she was swallowed up by the turquoise-green and shell-pink background. “
Eucharist
The profound blue of Mary’s shawl sweeps under the horizon just as the glass joins start looking like ant trails. Candles pretend to die, momentarily, as I stumble into the Psalm’s first verse. Then the songs are folded. The pastor reads “release them” from a book that says relieve th
God Pities the Nursery Children
A Translation of Yehudah Amichai’s ‘God Pities the Nursery Children’ [אלוהים מרחם על ילדי הגן ] from Hebrew. God pities the nursery children, He pities school children even less As for the גדולים [big ones], He will pity no more – He’ll let them fend for the