For S. L. My walking stick whistles [but I cannot]/ We are met by ire-blue clouds - hefted & sullen in gestation - sick of their sour discomfort & weight - brushwork inks & greets hard from her stain above us & hail hits us - it stings skin on Firle Beacon finding ice-stoned sinners … Continue reading After Lockdown
I am not blood-steamed by spine loosening grunts across bare white backs laid out below Istanbul on arse-warmed marble .... /
We will struggle for storm names and typhoons will be numbered in the Northern Territories We will enjoy sequential weather and buy rain and shade covers in equal measure for such events Extremes will be downgraded to normal They will re-define old tide charts re-draw shorelines and flood plains But we will suffer drought and … Continue reading Shipping Forecasts
For LB & JB A lone traffic light beyond Kemptown oscillates with near-nervousness as it instantly switches between colours - older-type bulbs - now made redundant by lower prices and higher brightness - once took time over their slow instructions - But we no longer have that eased luxury as we drive at our uncontrolled … Continue reading By Love’s Light
This abstruse epoch of endless information is a virulent strew of ingrowing metadata - It is thrown wide like blindly hurled seeds .../
This latest named storm is as magnificently loud as Seaford's raw shingle when overturned by tides .../
That white fall outside my studio, which kids had anticipated forever, now lay wet, unhealthy, a let down on this small island of crap weather.