a frieze of lacemakers
intricately at work
beneath the bay’s
array of scintilla –
essays | fiction | poetry | photography | art
a frieze of lacemakers
intricately at work
beneath the bay’s
array of scintilla –
Last night they were alive again, flying through the air at break-bone speed, but they didn’t break.
The fish
fillets are thawing
for their pan-fried debut.
giddy with the scent
we pipette the peppermint
into the mixture
a cheeping beak breaks forth
scenting balmy air:
swirls of hyacinths waft
in warm, hour-less days –
I felt autumn and you weren’t in it
How many fried eggs do I have to eat to heal these broken bones?
last night i carved open
a tree in the yard and
at the centre of the
trunk was a small
knife
The trees are prettier this time of year, limp—
gowned in sweet milk stuck to our tongues.
It was the temperamental radio,
the cats with full bellies,
the hilarious stench of fuel
breathe and /hold
lungs and belly
moon balloon full
the slow inflections of the wind
where rivers run like scars.
The moon hangs quietly
in the blackened air, halved and emptied, decaying since dusk