Category Archives: simpatico

Me and they,
we rode the same
wavelength.

je suis une chienne

i watch a man and woman argue, he’s farang and she’s Thai, she’s shrieking in Thai, and that in itself is unusual because Thais rarely raise their voice, but she’s a banshee, you don’t know what a banshee is, i

je suis une chienne

i watch a man and woman argue, he’s farang and she’s Thai, she’s shrieking in Thai, and that in itself is unusual because Thais rarely raise their voice, but she’s a banshee, you don’t know what a banshee is, i

observable universe

i think i said:
i like the places my brain is going.
it’s leaving our local group.

observable universe

i think i said:
i like the places my brain is going.
it’s leaving our local group.

deadcat meets ernest

I wondered where DeadCat had slipped off to. Some days I thought she might have coughed up her ninth under a bridge or stuffed in a rubbish bin. Other days, I imagined she found her way into a national park. But the pussy’s been drinking g&t with Ernest Crumb…

deadcat meets ernest

I wondered where DeadCat had slipped off to. Some days I thought she might have coughed up her ninth under a bridge or stuffed in a rubbish bin. Other days, I imagined she found her way into a national park. But the pussy’s been drinking g&t with Ernest Crumb…

am i writing or is it writing me?

I wrote today while they were gone and the house was more than quiet, it was empty, vacant like a bomb had gone off somewhere and people were extinct.

am i writing or is it writing me?

I wrote today while they were gone and the house was more than quiet, it was empty, vacant like a bomb had gone off somewhere and people were extinct.

alice morgan

The girl in the green coat made me think of Alice Morgan. She sat at a table for six, ordered a cappuccino, and pulled out an old copy of The Bell Jar…

alice morgan

The girl in the green coat made me think of Alice Morgan. She sat at a table for six, ordered a cappuccino, and pulled out an old copy of The Bell Jar…

#LoveOverFear

I have come across many knee-jerk posts about Paris, watched as they lingered and then got stuck in emotional quicksand: pain, anger, indignation, and finally hate. Exclamation marks were profuse.

#LoveOverFear

I have come across many knee-jerk posts about Paris, watched as they lingered and then got stuck in emotional quicksand: pain, anger, indignation, and finally hate. Exclamation marks were profuse.

waiting for eva 

Eva wore a solemn expression that reminded him of her copious use of commas, colons, and semi-colons when she was being serious. He laughed, and knew that he was fucked.

waiting for eva 

Eva wore a solemn expression that reminded him of her copious use of commas, colons, and semi-colons when she was being serious. He laughed, and knew that he was fucked.

the curator, the whore, and the tourist

We came to the last door and the curator opened this with a flourish. Lying on a bed was a young girl who uncoiled her long limbs and approached us. She flashed her teeth.

the curator, the whore, and the tourist

We came to the last door and the curator opened this with a flourish. Lying on a bed was a young girl who uncoiled her long limbs and approached us. She flashed her teeth.

six word story no. 19

the atomic truth: they never touched.

six word story no. 19

the atomic truth: they never touched.

oi flanders!

I’m not bedridden. Is there such a thing as ‘houseridden’? The migraine has been diligent the past two weeks. I think it may be preparing to go on holiday, and making sure that while abroad, it’s not forgotten. A needy

oi flanders!

I’m not bedridden. Is there such a thing as ‘houseridden’? The migraine has been diligent the past two weeks. I think it may be preparing to go on holiday, and making sure that while abroad, it’s not forgotten. A needy

six word story no. 17 

there are universes in her singularity.

six word story no. 17 

there are universes in her singularity.

six word story no. 16

her soul burned on Jupiter’s moon.

six word story no. 16

her soul burned on Jupiter’s moon.

sharks ate my post

I woke this morning with an image of a city set adrift on an ocean. There must be a story there, or a poem at least, I thought. I was Hemingway’s old man hauling the great fish home even as

sharks ate my post

I woke this morning with an image of a city set adrift on an ocean. There must be a story there, or a poem at least, I thought. I was Hemingway’s old man hauling the great fish home even as