This tired city rests upon a million slumbering bones murmuring their discontent beneath smoother pavements than they enjoyed. Tweet
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Flash Fiction
Very short pieces of writing – prose and poetry
Left Behind #NaPoWriMo Day 15
Shot From Both Sides #NaPoWriMo – Day 14
I photographed my body for you, a documentary offering of the banality of my flesh. A pale haunch and, beneath its hide, muscle and sinew in the process of decay. The temporal swell of generous breast on its way to a lesser generosity, having fed no one anything, a subject with no object, abjection...
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Future Mornings #NaPoWriMo – Day 13
In leviathan dreams I licked my own blood off your parted lips with the hunger of a mythic bliss. I woke soaked in memory, the taste of bitter ghosts on my tongue, the grey chill of adulthood for company. I have slept a marathon, and risen to a lesser dawn, But there is power...
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Air #NaPoWriMo Day 11
Take your breath And show me Meaning with your Hands Hold your breath And pull me Into the void of Silence Your pretty foot Placed with care On my neck Finally Tweet
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Come to Me #NaPoWriMo – Day 10
“Come to me,” I said my last deluded act knowing all that I am now not everything time has stolen from me still pitilessly takes and will never return. The clock ticks on flesh falters on the bone ’til nothing one has is worth the offering It was always already far too late wasn’t...
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Father #NaPoWriMo – Day 9
There’s a deep hole waiting for you, father. The earth will embrace you as I could not. She’ll protect you eternally from your fears of the mistake you made in the madness of flesh in a grotty room on the Boulevard de la Madeleine. It was so much easier to tolerate the child than...
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Dawn, Deferred #NaPoWriMo – Day 8
Stay like this, on the knife edge of day. Hesitate before the world comes crashing in to evict you from my warm bed. I have nothing to persuade you with but the promise of the dawn deferred a moment. Tweet
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Cogito Senryus #NaPoWriMo – Day 7
I count on fingers, there is a knowing in flesh that trumps all others. Time demands of us the return of all its gifts like angry lovers. Words are not like knives Just abstract signifiers Only knives are knives. Tweet
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But Not Me #NaPoWriMo – Day 6
I know you are sated the switch is flipped the power off but not for me. Bullets in the chamber breathlessly loaded spent in a moment but not in me. The savage hands like forked tongues leave their marks but not on me. Stuttered obscenities skipped across glass spoken under skin but not to...
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Ladykiller #NaPoWriMo Day 5
I’ve seen him three times before in the high-street. Dark, longish hair threaded with grey. Of humbler origins, his too polished shoes. Sagging jacket pockets from a youth of standing on corners waiting for trouble. Handsome. Part gypsy those grey-green eyes. A family man now made good, he buys oranges, brightly coloured yogurts and...
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