The one half-brick for the load-bearing column;
the trash-can lid for the perilous slalom;
Spirit
The Sheltering Chthonic
Tickle the trickling, pickling rot
mindlessly; or else solder –with fodder– that clot
— or let bleed, and proceed to relieve the disease
by attention, so end the well-pensioned distention
you’ve cuddled with smuggled-in mud.
Memory in the Wake of the World’s Fracturing
Fault not Mnemosyne for being unreliable;
since the fissure opened she has been wandering on the outside Continue reading
The Year Behind; the Year Ahead
On the 1st of January of 2016 I made a set of resolutions about what I’d be covering here; I have, largely, failed to meet them. Continue reading
Satisfaction Murders The Motility of Anger
Here in my chair, after a full night’s sleep,
eyes ranging ‘cross shelves of my library Continue reading
Into the Clarities 