Sunday, October 21, 2018


‘Like a River’

With river’s flooding, new channels are forged
to funnel snowmelt from mountains to a mouth.
This season’s excess, carnivaled from core 
to periphery in preservation squalls and shakes.
To the score of Koyaanisqatsi, from a bird’s eye
I see: motor cars siphoned through capillaries, 
speeding, stopping, slippering, lights blinking.
From her house she hears the highway - ‘like a river’.
While Glass’s music notes, synced to celluloid 
and etched in time, trill and jostle ad infinitum, 
river recedes, re-joins its calm and casual course,
revealing resacas; appendices accenting stream script.
Still water waits here, gathering time and memory
until fresh blood arrives to reinvigorate experience.







Thursday, October 18, 2018




Call Me by Your Name


Call me by your name
and I'll call you by mine.
Narcissus, Narcissus.
Echo, Echo, Echo.




Tuesday, September 11, 2018


And a History of Power


We will struggle,
and when we do,
you will always win.

The Red and the Green.

Just colours
just duality
then details.

Their ways are many
yet frequently aligned.
And us receiving,
receiving.

I interrupted,
said goodbye,
and joined my mother
waiting.





Saturday, July 22, 2017


Punk bands that had the desire and energy to take to the stage but once there having nothing to say. Orange juice. I said: even when people appear to have something to say it’s the being on stage that is the satisfaction they seek. He said: it was the ‘nothing to say’ that was the point of the being on stage, bringing our attention to the emptiness.

How we use memory and personal stories to communicate importance, making sure we actually exist. Authenticity is the new black and the making and eating of food a lifestyle statement rather than a preparation of available produce to fill that space inside. If I can tell you why something is important to me then maybe you will take the time to listen and it will become important in the telling. Is anything so important though, in the fleeting, and regardless of experience now past? And do we celebrate this non attachment or question an inability to contact and communicate the attachments we actually have? ‘There will always be haters’ he said.

Without precedent or invitation I tell her about the beautiful scenery in the TV programme I’ve been watching set in New Zealand and how everyone used to ask me whether I had travelled there when I was living in Australia, it being so close, and I tell her that I hadn’t and how I would like to go there someday. On top of the lake. Behind those floated and thin words I wonder why I am making this conversation when even I am not convinced, only more aware of our worlds apart.