Fifth time in five years and like always days dragged their feet then sprinted, until with the shrivelled fruit of August I am sweating boxes, dripping saucepans to another crater of this city. Heat bears down, desk fan churns but missing this place? Its panorama of bins, the guy who daily examines his dick, thickContinue reading “Migrating Season”
Little by little I am learning the art of wasting time, the marathon of days. Cycling slower, stopping almost to bide time with hives of wisteria and pink petal shavings, like candy floss in the gutter. Then going farther faster limbs burning lungs unfolding palms like oysters on melted ice clasped but curdling as they beginContinue reading “Another Art”
Last Friday the stove blew up And our home came to the ground. Blackened plates, blackened telephone, Blackened stew (nothing new). Mother moaned merrily As the brambles swarmed and Earth Took back our house: An opportune disaster.