Month: May 2025
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18.05: The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman Considers the Weight of Absence the old woman with no cathas no cat to call her own,but her neighbour’s cathas claimed her as its own. she watches the cat and feelsthe weight of absence,and how it settles quietin the hollow of a room. the old woman remembersthe heft of a living thing,…
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17 May: Ten Things of Thankful
In no particular order: 1. Thankful for the Waze app, so we knew we weren’t exceeding the speed limit (because the instrument cluster went black, along with no satnav, and no tik.tik.tik sound from the turn indicator) on my husband’s car. 2. That the mechanics could plug (his) car into a computer, and a simple…
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17.05 The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman & the Cat Apply for the Code-Breaker Job the interview:the co-op manager scans the old woman’s résumé:“deciphered the neighbour’s wifi password?”“cracked the meaning of the crow’s suspicious silences?”she shrugs.“semiotics is practically cryptography.”the cat, meanwhile, presents a grease-stained napkin.“this is a one-time pad.”(the napkin reads: buy tuna or else.) the test:the manager slides…
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16.05 RDP’s Dilatory
Korean Gogyohka Poems for a Lazy Spring Afternoon Seven Small Gods of Laggardy For those who linger. For those who hesitate with purpose. For those who have made an altar of the undone. (A Nap’s Prelude) Sunlight pools like spilled honey—eyelashes catching the light,delicate as dandelion seedsbargainingwith the dilatory breeze. (The Shedding) You shrug off…
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman Arrives Fashionably Late to Her Exorcism the ghost taps its foot.“you were supposed to be here at midnight.” the old woman checks her watch—a thrift-store relic,its hands permanently stuck at almost. “traffic,” she lies. the neighbour’s cat (her ride-or-die)hisses at the holy water font,then knocks it over. for fun. the priest sighs.…
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15.05: Journal of Thoughts
A Journal of Thoughts from This Week 13 May – walking on Lower Lodge Gill, West Sussex The flail mower growls through the lane—it’s a starved thing,metal teeth gnashing cow parsley and nettles into pulp,spitting out splinters, limbs, stalks and petals—confetti—a wedding and war all at once. Casualties counted in flashes of sight—a shrew’s twitching…
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14 May: Journal of Thoughts
While Lightning Took Apart the Sky While lightning took apart the sky,and rain fell in muddy lustre—morning arrived. Pockets of light and clouds splitting their seams open, and even crows paused their voices,stuffed with static and an aftertaste of storm. I set the table—knives and forks,and plates with edges to the horizon—and tea and toast…
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13.05: Elegy for the Grounded
This is a four-part Prosery, each one less than 144 words, written for dVerse Poets, and including the phrase “I have no skills for flight or wings to skim the waves effortlessly, like the wind itself.” from the poem “The Magnificent Frigatebird,” by Ada Limon An Elegy for the Grounded I. The Veil Tree She…
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13 May: The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman Considers Aphids and the Meaning of Lunch the lupins tremble under their tiny, hungry gods—green stems bowing like philosopherswho’ve just realisedthey’re also on the menu. “to be eaten,” the old woman muses,“is just another way of being useful.” the cat (still not hers, never hers)flicks an ear:“spoken like someonewho’s never been licked.”…
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12 May: A Six – The Book of 27
5 of 27: Gravebright – a Colour once felt, not seen—A smile worn only at funerals 5 of 27: Gravebright – A smile worn only at funerals The gravel shifts beneath her boots as she steps out of the car, snow mounded as quiet witness along the hedgerows—the priest waiting at the church door with…
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