Author: abigfatcanofworms
We all walk in the dark. But if we hold hands, perhaps the dark won't be as scary.
Twiglet #290
Tourist Without a Dictionary Beneath every mountain is a map flung but unsung by ravensong or the witchcraft of breeze-saying. When we walk, breath coarse as ice flow from this snow-crusted air, I stop on thigh-sore’s pitch and turn to the view. There it is, the sprawl of our city, roof-tumble and tree toss and … Continue reading Twiglet #290
Four Inch Day
The girl with polka dotted wellies is shin deep in garden cavorting in a pine bark sea because under the tip, flip, drizzling it’s a four inch day. My plastic tablecloth billows and the carpark's running downhill - gravel rush and mud skin... and there’s the bob-gloss of umbrellas and a three foot leap with … Continue reading Four Inch Day
Wordless Wednesday
Visual Verse Anthology
Image by John Crozier Rush Hour 6pm crowds into the station // wasps to a nest // huddle of bodies // brunt-warm the smell // stressed rubber undertoned by grease // noise of rushing, crushing wind the black tunnel breathes rails hum and wheels screech // “please stand behind the yellow line” // the PA … Continue reading Visual Verse Anthology
Warp & Weft
Feeling stupid after an email conversation, I go out to exercise the dog. The oval lies over-sheened with western sun. Light billows like a sheet, particulate and all-pervasive until I shade my eyes. The dog scoots, mostly ignoring the ball which I throw for my own exercise, walking on and to pick it up and … Continue reading Warp & Weft
Slaves of Citrus
You caught me stealing at dusk limes from our neighbour’s tree; they were yellow and cold. but you with your lilac smile you dangled, fishing-line easy pilfering light from a company of unrisen stars. I ducked inside cheeks pink as the froth of clouds but you smarmied on, shameless as Fagan It's little consolation knowing … Continue reading Slaves of Citrus
Monday not-really-Macro
"Thunder Eggs" from an extinct volcano west of Rockhampton, Queensland. We fossicked for them ourselves.
Monday Portrait
Even although Einstein has been living outside for around 6 weeks now and is fairly well integrated with the rest of the flock, he/she still comes to the window occasionally at dusk to see if we'll let him/her sleep inside again.
in the dream
in the dream my watch always gets water in it the blurred face like tears at breakfast and the dining table clatter of guilt until I wake breathing out the feeling
Out of the Cave 