Night’s Butterfly

I should've run, gone some place she wouldn't find me, but some lights are too bright to turn from. Even now it's hard to know who was the moth and who the flame. Without wings what are we anyway? Caterpillars? or worse, grubs...cockroaches feeding off the detritus of a society hurtling toward its end of days. I drink in this … Continue reading Night’s Butterfly

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Writing Death Monkeys

To some it's known as writer's block--an artistic palsy that leaves you with an inability to put pen to paper, fingertip to keyboard. Some know it as procrastination (laziness), while others still (usually poets) will deign to call it ennui.  It is a product of fear and anxiety, feelings of unworthiness, and if you're a writer you will have experienced it. Fear is the … Continue reading Writing Death Monkeys

Roast Beef and Armageddon 

News travelled fast about the spaceship. We weren’t used to things like this happening in Neverington. It was a Sunday afternoon in the middle of June, so at least E.T. had waited for morning service to finish. People round here still relied on their God fix. I was at my girlfriend’s house when it happened. … Continue reading Roast Beef and Armageddon 

Book be a lady tonight

So, I had myself a charming lunchtime rendezvous today with a classy little thing all the way from Bavaria. Oozing charm and sophistication (even at two hundred-years old), my date was attired in a devilishly chic little black number, blurring the lines between elegance and cheapness ...well, I did pick her up for a pound in the stairwell … Continue reading Book be a lady tonight