A distant October

Her evening baritone dressed in solemn winter wear stolen from a Catholic funeral She wears the colours of Whisky at the bottom of an alcoholic's gut the thick sludge of cirrhosis of the liver and of the heart So abysmal in a room of brightest lights burning through unblinking corneas her guiles are ashamed they… Continue reading A distant October


When the sun stops sharing its heat when the clouds stop singing and the trees dancing, will take a knee I shall know that it is time for autumn for winds to grow cold and the trees to grow bald the days shorter and the nights stranger and that autumn I will rid the world… Continue reading Autumn