Boom, then sounds like shattering glass, fragments of glass, plinking sounds carried on the wind. Boom. Agitated, the city, men with guns rummaging around yards, snipers on rooftop, jumbles of green, black, blue. Shooting. Shooting past walls, reason resistance. Men are hunters, men are chaos shooting. Bombing. Shattering glass. Helicopters split the air, float and … Continue reading We Are in Manic House, Operational and Compromised
Month: April 2013
Happier Not Throwing
I am running across the dunes falling down the sand, with the flow. You are below, around, behind, I don’t know, mother, father… …you are flowing across the sand with me, away from me, it’s all shifting so smoothly. Once, when I was 8 or 9, (Maybe 10) You took me into the record books, … Continue reading Happier Not Throwing
The Nasturtium Leaving the Suburban Cineraria, Silently
Horus on the beach, bank of the Nile. Chatting up a slumming Sumerian spring spirit. Summer no time for vengeance, just seeding. Tony making time with Cleo, Bob drunk, beating Alice again. The old postman moaning "howdy". Passing secrets on the side-streets of the small town we all tear down daily, in our good-time daydreams.
