Month: Dec 2016
-
dVerse: Recipe Poetry
Winter Sips It’s the season’s sour face, slowly moulding, held and cured in curdled mud. Those crisp leaves dredged with frost, soon to dilute and dissolve to dolce compost. Winter sips, an enophile, drunk on rain and sleet and hail, while I, who feels pinched as old mutton, waits for a robin’s song. …
-
dVerse Quadrille #22
Sliced You’re so random, like an accident or a scar, like when you blurted out I don’t understand pickled cows sliced in half. Poor beast. It’s been Hirst’ed. Damien’ed. Like that canvas of dead black flies, or framed shells and cigarettes. I mean — bite me for dVerse: Quadrille #22 “Scar” – 44 words in…
-
For Sunday Whirl #275
Mosquito Chatter mosquitoes chattering at the porch light, tapping, demanding entry at the back door, tangled in the patterns of the bedding nets, screeching bugger banshees flying by my ears, and I heave myself at the fly swatter, swinging and swatting. see that mosquito splat on the wall? it’s an anatomy of dead. and here…
-
dVerse Haibun #26
I’m unable to sleep. Again. Winter makes me a bit flighty. Makes me fidgety as shivers. But when the sun does appear, it’s all the more welcome. This morning I watched the sun rise and focus and burn away fog so thick that the end of the street had disappeared into its own depth, and…