Category Archives: b

The Black Plague of the Soul I am jack’s black shadow felled between trees i am the lingerer of science no conscience can ease i am the turbid and extraordinary rot of the urbanite soul i am the first and … Continue reading →

To Amelia On Breaking Up There was a little pebble lying on the beach with a thousand other sea worn stones and the shells that children keep and as the salty water rushed to meet it on the changing sands … Continue reading →

On Book Learning (Or Faust to his Lawyer). A fellow in his chair might adventure at liberty to follow words out across the casement of Europe beyond into desert lands wide oceans and high canyons repleat with the terrible joy … Continue reading →

On Being (continued). We become the things we do This – alas the truth Thus men with shovels at the grave become assasins of the tomb the train drivers the men that looked away the jack boot boys and the … Continue reading →