Words Burn

VLADIMIR: You should have been a poet. ESTRAGON: I was. [Gesture towards his rags.] Isn’t that obvious. [Silence.]  Waiting for Godot. Samuel Beckett A whole ninety-eight cents have recently been credited to my low-tide bank account from Yanks' penny clicks on my must-do-better lines in newly-hewn sob stories without no strummed blues which now appear … Continue reading Words Burn

The Reading Room

We are looking about at a screen-stuck-to silvered generation of eye-glued viewers in trawl-warmed hands Those old phone huggers sit logged in to online's click-bait refuge of tittle-tattle and gossip and foreign muckiness under scrolled fingering for rolled eyes of delight and instant connectedness to others' risen anger Those mobile surfers ride on a curl … Continue reading The Reading Room


So this internet thing - it is not perpetual - those coded points are subjected to atrophy by compression - of post-reposts - a shrinking by interactions - a constant thinning - as offline moments thicken with time's hand-hefted brushwork -- see - original composition is super-fogged by varnished layers of obfuscations -- My dark-slapped … Continue reading Lossy