Jan06

Early morning song, Stinging bitterness. Early morning smog From distant pyres. Charred and ruined Among the ashes: A lonely sword, Lonely sword, broken. Remaining is the worst part, Going on knowing What was wrong. Fanning up the flames And stoking up the fires And making a martyr For all your pains. Joan of Arc, French…

Oct27

I wanted to crawl into the screaming nightEscape to the luminous hours of new daysTo retreat from domineering matriarchal fright.I wanted to break the conventional foresightTo escape her lingering shadow in doorways – I wanted to crawl into the screaming night.I wanted to run from her constant oversight,Escape to gloomy streets and grimy alleywaysTo retreat…