Sunday, 18 September 2011

like pubic hair around a penis

A quick snippet from "I Hate Martin Amis et al", by Peter Barry:

"Today I'm shooting from the Jewish cemetery high up above Grbavica.  The irony doesn't escape me - I lie amongst the dead and attempt to add to their number.  They are my allies, my friends, we are on the same side.  The dead provide excellent cover: the grass clusters at the base of the white, smooth stones like pubic hair around a penis."

Thoroughly enjoying this so far.

Monday, 15 August 2011

The Lunar Menopause

the solar tides still weakly ebbed
on the day of the Lunar Menopause.
the Earth still turned and brighter shone the stars overhead.

she eschewed terrestrial orbit and
her subtle egress into milky pastures beyond
left synodic months measured now only for sentiment.

birds and bees among the first to
perish. A wave of melancholy with
no clear source as seasons shifted and mother nature wept.

her isotonic tears crashing and cursing,
the land of her children overcome as
freedom found and marriage annulled. Then the end.

Friday, 5 August 2011

My pillow has a heartbeat (*puke*)

My pillow has a heartbeat
And I love him very much.

My pillow has a heartbeat
And he trembles at my touch.

My pillow has a heartbeat
And it rises with his breath.

My pillow has a heartbeat
And I'll listen 'til our death.

Sunday, 8 May 2011

some random crap on ABC

today i turned on the TV while i was reading. i had on some random crap on ABC, footage of some old guy talking interlaced with various other scenes. but combined with the strange mix of music, i stopped reading bit by bit and became more captivated. it was strange, but it seemed like some kind of brilliant genius.

okay so THEN i realised my stereo hadn't changed to A/V mode properly and i was watching ABC but listening to FBi radio.

woopsie doodle.

Sunday, 24 April 2011

amarillo ramp

mystical slipstreams. angkor wat. la sagrada familia. spiral jetty. amarillo ramp. lee ranaldo. the lightning field. robert smithson. the beach. dislocated arm. a vertical plane. the notebook. salty tang. last exit / big exit.

won't even know i've left.


Sunday, 17 April 2011

our stomach is grumbling

Our stomach is grumbling again. We have been feeding him well - overly well, Brian says - but his attitude has soured day by day. I even snuck him a chocolate bar while Brian was looking away to sweeten things up, but still with the grumbling. I turn my head to fix Brian directly in the eye, but am rewarded only with earwax.