Tag: prose
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5 March: Stream of Consciousness Saturday
Captain Ahab It’s getting cold, and it’s raining again, and the one-legged pigeon is stood like a moody hiss on the gutter, staring in the frosty window at me as I crunch on toasted raisin bread. This bread’s been in the freezer for about a year, about the same time as when I named that…
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29 January: Stream of Consciousness
Sunday morning: (304 words) He’s sitting in his brand new car, my neighbour, reading the user manual, I assume, although a moment later I see it’s The Times newspaper. He turns the page, shakes it straight, and folds it into a manageable rectangle. It rests on his steering wheel, and he’s drinking coffee with a…
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for dVerse Prosery #2
Untitled Prosery #2 I dreamt that I was naked inside some blackness of thick night, floating amongst the rarest of silken clouds. I was cream on milk. Quicksilver folded in some ancient language of smoke and waft and alter fire. I drifted with constellations, crossed swords with Orion, and placed myself into every childhood. Blame…
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Class 4: Whitman’s Civil War: Writing and Imaging Loss, Death, and Disaster
A Widow to His Wildfire He was wildfire devoured By the dry ribs of summer, And he slipped into eternity, That long legionous march . His wife became widow’s wear; Told to be strong, to keep her faith. But her loss widened. Widening Into circles upon gone. His fruit Fallen to ground, and she’s still…
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Miz Quickly’s Chesty Birds
Sometimes there’s no starting point, you’re in the middle of it all before you realise it started, and someone said that a storm was blowing in, but until it’s hanging right overhead, that storm is somebody else’s storm, somebody else’s problem. So we sat on the floor, drawing flowers and pressing plants on writing paper,…
It's Still Life 