To all the late and wavering poets
Your fledgling faith is beginning to paint lines,extruding mute colours,flickering images. But the light in you is brittle,it quavers like crystal,threatens to ...
Category: Poetics
Mercy is an old word
This morning at Credo, a homeless person obviously suffering the mental and physical strafing of street life, stole in and immediately and determinedly began to...
For Lou, and her friends
You told us once, goodbyes, held reason for acquaintances, but friends cross all distances. Now here we are, still casting shadows under this fasting sun, and y...
Calling
You have to respect the maniacal joy of a magpie, in the middle of this grey drizzly day. Her, don’t-give-a-shit secret, she flies with, feeds on, follows...