A Purview

I remember in the winter, once, a day just like the others, a morning cold that wrapped the walnut tree with halted dew drops waiting for the sun to free them. The sky was like the others’, too, heavy pearl and indistinct, and in the east, almost intangibly, a thinning bank of sallowed white expanded […]

Lovely morning

god I love those mornings stroked with cigarette romances, the filthy sage illusions throwing praise beneath fluorescents where a sunrise comes in wired white and grey to pay the frail walls attention. I live for the disheveled furrows filtering and sifting every thinning whisper of its oxygen to snub the pilot light, for cottled shrines […]

In the alleys

Sometimes all the buildings in a city catch the sun just right, filmy yellow sheets dissecting blocks so that each street is walled by gold. I slip between them as I walk, step into the shadow made by brick and steal that leans above–cold and clamped, and captive in a way I’ve never minded–then back […]

Losing site

A line that carried out of site an evening on the wax extended just to where the sky was tinted ochre. From where I stood, the traffic made a thinning rank of single file embers lurching one by one, quitting demurely at the cresting landscape as if slipping off the world’s edge. And I’d have […]

A River Thames

An evening slowly set to laying blue across the city. I was walking all alone, and in the growing shade the sounds of traffic mingled with the bated hum that fell like vapor down from building’s tops where heaters swallowed air and belched exhaust. Memories of nights at home, of how the moonlight dampens noise […]

In passing waves

On either side of the flat-hulled boat, wooden benches hung parallel, leaving the center open so the riders could walk freely. Their grain was old and weathered smooth, large threads of lighter wood curling lushly through the dark like unstirred cream and coffee. As I leaned against the roughly painted blue and crimson hull, waves […]


I always had the clouds to break. I always had the rain to take a bit of blame for crying when the silver linings mirrored what it was here on the ground, always grey to blunt the jeers of daylight like some anesthetic evening born of cold condensed, and I had always pensive melancholy softening […]