roof top
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things take place before my eyes through a blurring sheet of heat, limbs flopping along in an insomniac mood the road towards dusk still a desert, a hammer bending a... Read More
Conversation
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I tell him: The seagull was walking in front of me along the sidewalk, like a person unaware of its petulant look, it suddenly turned left and entered a park.... Read More
editors note:
The gall of gulls, the disruption of skin. The conversation without, the contradiction within. Why, indeed? – mh clay
How to know it isn’t a dream
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I close the door very gently I was patient all day long I can feel the weight on my limbs All the symptoms of the season Are around: smiling lights... Read More
editors note:
Even when we think we know, we blink at years before we go. – mh clay
Out for a walk
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So we enter the elegant shop looking like two middle aged drifters dressed in house clothes just gone out to get groceries carrying still the empty shopping cart suddenly thinking... Read More
editors note:
Waking the dream of a day when every day’s a dream. – mh clay
vain beauty
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Already short of breath in the midsummer day flowers born to exude scent die in exhaustion applauding breeze with curling petals falling on the mantelpiece among odd objects reflecting the... Read More
editors note:
With the turn of leaves, comes this turn of phrases; scintillating indeed! Thanks, Francesca! – mh
Projections
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Often, when I imagine the life of others, I can see inside my own a sacred place, a door without a key a constellation of apples ready to be picked... Read More
editors note:
Who’s to say that our swelling seas are nothing more than the wrung out wash of a million billion sea sponges, expelling our existence? – mh
Spleen
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Lucid moments dissolve as you try to reach the place where towers rise It may take everything to understand dreams dissected in the laboratory of ignorance as mysteries get uncovered... Read More
editors note:
As we plumb the depths of our dream ignorance, mind detached, let one of those irremediable habits be a daily donning of clean underwear. – mh
Coiffure
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I stand in the kitchen stirring vegetables for soup, imagining I'm another person, perhaps the hairdresser there, in the corner smoking between hairdos, wondering how the audible click of scissors... Read More