She said she had been to Wanaka for Christmas, and that was a bloody lie. It was Hawea. She always went there. It’s funny, how Christmas’s mercantile madness flows into conversation; how people like to big-note to prove to you, at a time of compassion, that they are doing nicely. Thank you. Everyone wants to…
Month: January 2019
atrocity in the garden
On the last day she made it electric, torched the flowers in Her image. Cut the petals. The sun-flashed blade. What terror of self, what emptiness, made you? Collect the spill of reds, yellow. Dissect the cool antediluvian shade. What kingdom is this. Chronic density of. To be. All & alternately…
Knot About Myself
1 Obviously building to it the months ran out, then days remained like guests too drunk to leave are lessened being half the life they were… Then only hours remained, and they dissolved as quick as methylated spirits on the concrete in summer. This was running from your past so thick & quickly you were…