Recent Entries

• Street.

  July 1, 2021

      Says Luiz - 'I like you because you re street' but I m not. I m the waves breaking foaming on the rocks of the beach. And still, there are things I see when I sleep on the street that I d miss, cocooned in a duvet -    

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• Quetzalcotl and the Goldilocks Effect.

  September 3, 2020

  In a town into which we have drunkenly arrived, there is a woman with a green bird on her shoulder. A parrakeet, perhaps. Antonio is on her in an instant: 'Give me a feather'. She is perfectly accommodating and pulls a green feather out of her companions tail. A fashions this into a beautiful ear...

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• Rotten Wood.

  June 29, 2020

  In Guatemala I am volunteering in a bicycle workshop and trying to speak in Spanish. I am a girl who has a lot to learn in a shop full of Latino men and often get relegated to jobs like pairing pedals and sweeping the floor. Tell you what I can lace a wheel better than…

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• The photo.

  June 29, 2020

  It is here, now, I am here, always Theres a photo here, in front of me. Its me and Grandad, in his back garden, with Granny s roses in the foreground. I remember this incident very well. I found Grandad in the conservatory one morning putting on his boots ready to go out to the…

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• The Excuses.

  June 10, 2020

  Its been too long. I dont have the words, anymore. There are the things I need to talk about before I forget, or before everything is forgotten. I got to do the work, and reclaim my inner freedom. When I was 16, I studied hard in school, didnt smoke cigarettes, and snuck out of the…

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• the wounded healer (pt1).

  April 24, 2019

  Petal. There will be that moment, when I am living on the streets again, an old ruin of a starchild, but their light gone from my eyes, when you will press a coin into my palm, to pay me off, reward my silence, to dismiss me and those eyes that you know are emptier than…

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• Bosnian Lolita.

  January 14, 2019

  (preamble: i ve just re-read this and it may not make any sense to anyone. And only 99.5% of it really happened) I was a Bosnian Lolita. The girl they met on the cobbles outside Mostar who had slept in a bush afraid of wild dogs the night before. My sleeping bag was tough but…

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• plaintive confession of rampant egohood.

  January 9, 2019

    'From beginningless time, without end, I have roamed through cyclic existence - Led astray by the momentum of my mistaken past actions and improper past behaviour, I have mistaken the path, and become lost on the path. I regret with powerful remorse the negative past actions I have committ...

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• 6 of Swords.

  January 8, 2019

  'That she was loved, of course I always knew. The facts about her public persona were not in doubt: that people in countries she had never visited cherished her for the beauty of her voice; that millions of males desired her body and dreamed of it at night; that women of all ages admired and…

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