Sunday, February 27
Friday, February 25
Fatty sleeping in the conservatory
Chin in the air, his makes noises that mean, "I'm sleepy. I'm happy. There's nothing I want."
Wednesday, February 23
Tuesday, February 22
Ezra Pound brings me my small stone today
And the days are not full enough
And the nights are not full enough
And life slips by like a field mouse
Not shaking the grass
*
Ezra Pound
And the nights are not full enough
And life slips by like a field mouse
Not shaking the grass
*
Ezra Pound
Sunday, February 20
Saturday, February 19
Wednesday, February 16
She's heavy, her skin is bad, her eyes are dilated, she lurches from side to side as she walks.
He's old, he leans against a post, he is trying to catch his breath and it won't come back.
In her tight jeans her legs are skinny, much too skinny. She pushes a pram. Her make-up is thick.
I don't know them. I worry about them all.
He's old, he leans against a post, he is trying to catch his breath and it won't come back.
In her tight jeans her legs are skinny, much too skinny. She pushes a pram. Her make-up is thick.
I don't know them. I worry about them all.
Monday, February 14
Sunday, February 13
Saturday, February 12
Thursday, February 10
Wednesday, February 9
a call for unwanted things
Behind the gusting wind and baby Isobela crying through the walls, the rag-and-bone man croons: Ah-HIeeeee-oh-n. Ah-HIeeeee-oh-n. Ah-HIeeeee-oh-n.
Monday, February 7
Sunday, February 6
Friday, February 4
go-carting
she comes upstairs away from the others and takes off her helmet. her head falls forwards, she is holding back tears. her skin is luminous. i want to tell her she is beautiful
Wednesday, February 2
alone in Cat's house
borrowing this sofa, this warmth, this chocolate-spread-covered-crumpet, this broadband, this music, this house, this breath, this body
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