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dVerse Prosery
We’re sat opposite each other. She’s drowning milky foam into her coffee. I’m telling her about this poem, has this imperturbable street. She looks up from her coffee. Stares at me. Yeah, imperturbable. What does it mean, she says. I admit I didn’t know either, so I knocked bits off the word, first “im”, then…
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7 June: A Conversation
Night You are my talcum star, scarlet on your lips, it’s your shade. Swathed in black, is it your protest, or my consolation. What hides behind your mask. You are my Nyx …. Day Morning is my peach, espalier across the linens. Ripe and soaking in sunshine, fingers playing my long song. Who is…
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Miz Q 05: A Few Words
You’re 19, Drunk, and … you don’t think so now, but you, too, will grow old and die. you, squatting in your own puddled cess, pissing down your leg, and not even caring. so I praise my threes and nines, my bottle of bleach and a stiff long-handled bristled brush. 4b 05.06 and…
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dVerse & Miz Q 04: Vacation
Ferienskifahrer I remember that our ski instructor called us Die ferienskifahrer. Holiday skiers, he said. Didn’t bother disguising the sneer on his lips. Our muscles tore and bits on bones chipped as we fell on the snow. Ferienskifahrer. We, with our legs stuck under desks for 50 weeks of the year. We, conquering the Alps…
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Miz Q04: Vacation
Blowing Through Skagen I’ve been to Skagen. Once. I was young. Seems like yesterday. There was grey gritty sand blowing down the street. Danish flags snapping the air, fringed edges, flagellated by wind. We walked the beach. Licked strawberry ice cream, and chewed grit for several days after. Stayed in a hotel straight out of…
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dVerse Quadrille #105
Slip Sliding There’s a landslip at Viking Bay. First the garage went. That was Sunday. The landowner said he moved his car, thinking the garage might collapse. Monday, the garage, the house, and the fishpond fell into the sea. His neighbour says she’s not going anywhere. for dVerse Quadrille #105 “Slip” ©️ Misky…
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Miz Q02: Image Prompt
It Put Me Right Off Chicken Forever A man on the street is asked, What’s the first thing you’ll do when lockdown ends? Go the KFC, he says, and get me-self a tub of chicken. And the reporter says, Oh. Okay. Well, what else? And he says, Next? ermm, a 24 count Chicken Nuggets with…
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for June’s Visual Verse
Elementary It is early June, and I hear birdsong – it’s bright, coming straight out of sunshine. The bird hides somewhere in the late spring greenery of the garden. I can’t see it. I am solely reliant on its song. It’s pitched at the upper half of the keyboard, sharp not flat, and not C.…
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Miz Q 01: Remix
Through an Old Window I was born in rainwater, with clothespins sewn in my pockets. I was a burden and a blessing. I was air drifting in old windows, and I was the passing of that century when fishes and loaves were born in a roadside kitchen. Remixed text from Written by Himself…
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26 April 2020
Originally posted on The Journal: Writing After James Schuyler’s “Hymn to Life” — He and I in a Square – (regularly updated) Day 84 of Lockdown. Summer: sunny, 28°C. The neighbour’s chainsaw cuts through the morning. I’m awake. And it’s charity bag day. Every house, but the 3rd one up the hill from me, has…
It's Still Life 