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I spin the compass, it calibrates indefinitely, the points flickering to and fro, everything is moving too fast… Sometimes I let the kettle scream. I sit there at the kitchen table, doing what I’m doing, the pitch rises, the … Continue reading
Double yellow lines disappear beneath the tread of the wheels. Both doors of the cab swing open and two men in hooded jackets step out, set the timer and dissolve into the crowds of early morning shoppers. Outside the department … Continue reading
In the aisles they danced too fast, too slow, stepping in and out of tempo, between time, flickering in and out of the strobe, between worlds, washed over by the waves, from Vulpecula to Pomona, 1967 to 1979, this black … Continue reading
Up here on the eastern edge of the Sound of Rum, the famous sands sing their ancient song, luring us far from the Rainy City, washing up on quartz shores with the rest of the flotsam. I cannot tell if … Continue reading