There’s the varnish. the wall. the tinder of grey, that give off the stench, of a world trying; in the pontificate. the joke, the stretch. Monotones; That wonder whether to accost, Accede. An unfamiliar rotundity next to a soon to close bar. I walk past those ponds you cropped thinking of the roads you traveled the gush sonorous. […]
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Keystones on the ledge, where wisdom cannot factor in for the unexpected; the delusional, the lame duck periods. of self-doubt. of death. The best are full of doubt ridden stasis. and the worst whore their talents around the sin bin. and sell their soul to the nearest parchment to the next slutty street that we call intellectual capital. […]
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van Diemen’s land eclipsed in artwork A solitary Joshua tree curling, fetal, looking outwards its instinct tailored, to fold itself in. and wrap yourself around your arms even as you scream “not here” take me somewhere else you say ribald, Nostradamus hued. Alone. one wondered if you, who liked the drumbeats to suggest how much of music […]
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you didn’t give a f**k for anything’ except love’ and art. it was the precipice that kept it sane’ kept it afloat even as you slid further and further away in real life and newly rediscovered sanctimony. even as we lay side by side and the workers could glimpse us as they worked the neighboring flat. It sits […]
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