The library remains insane
When first entering the library, with your shadow darkly following behind, you walk up to the counter and ask the aged librarian (who’s wise to understand to understand carved in […]
Category Archives: poetry
eight one one
A room without books is like a body without a soul. Cicero The aged librarian have ceased to shave — his beard’s another shade of grey and when he walks […]
You owe me everything
You cannot see me. I’m absolutely still. I’m the shadow in the shadow, patient, waiting, cause you will be the first to move. You know I’m close. I can see […]
Palinoia
When caught with jam around your lips you touch that pause between a heartbeat and the next and tense in halfway rigor mortis, in the gall and wormwood sense of […]
We were like houses
My past in the suburban housing; mushroomed from the meadows in the early sixties; houses side by side, stately rows with playground streets; at first the same, but after fifty […]
