Daily Archives: March 7, 2022

A Pitiful Dream

I had fallen asleep but I must awaken as

there is a hunger in my gut.

I am deeply disturbed and need to go for a walk

to breathe in and breathe out.

I need to see the moon in the sky:

a jagged soul from within

like the moon on the night that the darkness falls.

A body that illuminates the soul and dreams.

A soul that cares, a soul that dreams.

A soul that will not take pleasure in blood.

A soul that hates.

A dark soul, a soul of sin.

A soul that soothes the soul.

A body filled with dreams and a mind that needs air.

A soul that dreams of black diamond moons.

A man created the sun inside her

and his hands were beautiful.

She was a woman with blood dripping on her thighs.

She was a woman with dark blue eyes that were masked by tears;

a woman who smiled in ecstasy and as child

that was hollow.

A woman with a young soul and a tormented mind.

A woman made of air, like the moon.

:: 03.07.2022 ::


The beach sloped up to a harbour. A girl held a towel over a palm tree, gripping the wrist-let for balance.

Why climb up? she said.

The sea widened out, five hundred yards at least, silvered sheets, colder here, a bay with a tide ebb.

A harbour of crabsteaks bulked dark, frozen corpses. She shook her towel, a wave lifted her breasts, the air was sour with her floral perfume. Jugglers’ parakeets made their fruity larking noises.

Jesus: their wings sound like voices. The red post of an outpost shone like a second moon.

By the harbour, at the point where land touched sea, a wrecked car, roof smashed down.

It had not sunk, but hung almost horizontal. Some air car, but no sign of the driver. An arm splashed up, spidery from lobster bites. Scuba gear: if only they had a boat. The girl was running to the wreck.

It looked as if it had taken out the sea wall, fifty yards inland. The cliff kept the sea at bay.

A man was leaping across the wrecked car.

A child followed. What was he doing?

:: 03.07.2022 ::