May 2013
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“When I kiss my daughter goodnight and wish her sweet dreams, she understands my...”
– Deborah Levy | Swimming Home
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“She played with the night-lights burning on the table, making prints of her...”
– Deborah Levy | Swimming Home
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“I have never got a grip on when the past begins or where it ends, but if cities...”
– Deborah Levy | Swimming Home
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Eyes and Fingers
A child is stooped over picking flowers with her fingers storing away light and gifts. A man is reading words sitting holding down the pages with his fingers storing away flames and shadows. Fingers connect ‘Reading and Picking’ Read, picked, and compiled A child picking flowers. A man reading poems.
Shoichiro Iwakiri
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Voyage
Sullen days. The corsair moves mechanically on its hinges. Beneath our proscenium arch wily ports ply their trade, measuring out the hours in skeletons and lampshades. The hold littered with props. Flat clouds drifting idly along the cardboard coast. (In the dawn they emerge, pale with grief.) I cannot remember biding time in the shallows with the air so steep. And the space behind the sun...
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Blues
It’s moments like this when the barman goes through the back and leaves me alone a radio whispering somewhere amongst the glasses - I’m through with love - the way the traffic slows to nothing how all of a sudden at three in the afternoon the evening’s already begun a nascent dimming. By ten I’ll be walking away on Union Street or crossing...
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April 2013
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“That old saying, about how you always kill the thing you love, well, it works...”
– Chuck Palahniuk | Fight Club
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“We are not special.
We are not crap or trash, either.
We just are.
We just...”
– Chuck Palahniuk | Fight Club
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“One minute was enough, Tyler said, a person had to work hard for it, but a...”
– Chuck Palahniuk | Fight Club
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Lust
If only he could touch her, Her name like an old wish In the stopped weather of salt On a snail. He longs to be Words, juicy as passionfruit On her tongue. He’d do anything, Would dance three days & nights To make the most terrible gods Rise out of ashes of the yew, To step from the naked Fray, to be as tender As meat imagined off The bluegill’s pearlish Bones. He longs to be An orange, to...
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Recitative
Every night, we couldn’t sleep. Our upstairs neighbors had to keep Dropping something down the hall— A barbell or a bowling ball, And from the window by the bed, Echoing inside my head, Alley cats expended breath In arias of love and death. Dawn again, across the street, Jackhammers began to beat Like hangovers, and you would frown— That well-built house, why tear it down? Noon, the radiator grill...
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Sharks' Teeth
Everything contains some silence. Noise gets its zest from the small shark’s-tooth shaped fragments of rest angled in it. An hour of city holds maybe a minute of these remnants of a time when silence reigned, compact and dangerous as a shark. Sometimes a bit of a tail or fin can still be sensed in parks.
Kay Ryan
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“It’s not enough to be numbered with the grains of sand on the beach and the...”
– Chuck Palahniuk | Fight Club
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“You buy furniture. You tell yourself, this is the last sofa I will ever need in...”
– Chuck Palahniuk | Fight Club
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“There will be mistakes, and maybe the point is not to forget the rest of...”
– Chuck Palahniuk | Fight Club
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September Dusk by Nant y Geuallt
The scent – bog myrtle pressed between fingers, even brushed through when walking across this empty valley fenced by crags. A flat moor – the colours muted as dusk closes in the red rust of grasses and bracken. A sense of calm almost, the silence. No bird nor beast. “In a remote land far from here …” No, not that far the mountains and bogs. As though in a dream, as though in an underworld...
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[I broke your heart.]
I broke your heart. Now barefoot I tread on shards.
Vera Pavlova
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The Body
has its little hobbies. The lung likes its air best after supper, goes deeper there to trade up for oxygen, give everything else away. (And before supper, yes, during too, but there’s something about evening, that slow breath of the day noticed: oh good, still coming, still going … ) As for bones—femur, spine, the tribe of them in there—they harden with use. The body would like a...
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