May30

What is an egg? Apart, of course, from breakfast. As an egg is an oval, it, thus, has no beginning, or any ending or even a middle. But even at it’s even centre the cream of the yolk will trigger a soul to crack. Voltaire, French writer, historian and philosopher, died today in 1778. Carl…

May29

Dear Straights, who deny voyeurs by doing up the top button of your blouses to suppress every inch of bosom; who abandon skyscraping stiletto heels in favour of supporting court shoes so as not to stand tall in any crowd; who mimic the stance of taller folk in a futile attempt to peer down on…

May28

Red river, Father, red river rising, Sister. Watch as I ripen into full bloom. As a sylvan scarlett sprig does when rich, behold my napalm flowering, branches luminous with pealing flame, and, in Summer, I thrive, each petal chasing my Sky King, yearning for his tender tending, tilling, pruning, paring and shaping offering a route,…

May27

And under that moon, cleft, split and departed bereft, sat, in silence, lips stitched, a bemuzzled wolf, bewitched, enslaved by the whistling wind, enchained by the sins he sinned, aloof in the mocking crowd that cursed him all too loud to a life of failure encumbered, a fool with wants outnumbered, who tarries at cross-roads…

May24

If nothing else, I marvel at this: this ruined spire, which could once rival those in leafy Oxford; this decrepit office, once boasting toasting, tweeting triumphs, when toasting and tweeting were the toasts of the town and the tweets of the twitter, well before the great AI propaganda machine in the cloud bent it’s churning…

May23

I lived an exposed life in the open ocean, but did not live until I happened upon that resilient bay. Those sheer, leaning cliffs, veiled in keen, verdant leaf, bequeathed to me a confetti shower of pink to peach blossom, and cloistered gleaming marble verandas and spiraling pastel temples sacred to smiling Gods of full…

May21

So long, old pal, who stood by us through the longest winters. We remember your holler, your bravado, your cowboy dust, and despite the perceived bad will, we love you still. I know you didn’t like giving or receiving a hug, but, we couldn’t just stand there watching you bathe in your own sewer: you…

May20

Art School Look at the way the stars splatter across the night sky. Like a nocturnal Jackson Pollock, they dribble slowly down to morning. Then the sun is up. Blazing! It splits the spirit, like half a sheep in a tank of formaldehyde. It’s no good, I’ve sliced off my ear. All this talk of…

May19

I cried on the day. The moment got me. I thought this would change everything. To see her so proud. Her head never drooped. Even at her last vow. Her stellular eyes radiate grace. Her legato gait so tranquil, like a white swan against the approaching storm. And yet, as she glanced up to the…

May18

As I closed the door behind me sat the ghost of myself. As usual it wouldn’t talk. It just stared. I offered my heart, but it was too scared to take it. I offered my brain, but it was too simple to accept. I offered my courage but it was too cowardly to even look….