the fragments

we're all just crows, with rights and anxiety....

While daydreaming at work, ruminating over years old peeling paint in the gallery, I find myself running away with my thoughts, captivated by the writer’s itch. Best thing about working in such an inspiring library of magical thought. Here are some random fragments written on a gloomy sunday at work in London. It is advised by experts that you should be listening to old jazz or something dramatic whilst reading.

FAME

andy warhol, andy warhol, 

lucy in your pocket watch 

fill me with cellophane stars and amphetamine beats 

keep me in your laser beam 

dine with me and together we shall eat jazz bar blues.

x

GHOST

fear stalks the spirit

waiting and taking and festering and taking 

flame submerges wax melting down to iron core. 

heartless, he says 

as he walks me to the chopping block. 

x

DRAGON BLOOD

i think of the earth as a dragon losing scales 

sparkles of inner molten core spilling 

falling volcano ash and cherry bakewell 

like tears on alabaster stone

i think of the earth as speckles of sun starched window dust falling into the 

pit of despair 

i think of the earth when i think of you 

x

HERA TO ZEUS

arcane godly hands 

knuckles of silk woven 

capillaries of anchor and still none to spare for me 

but a single jackdaw hanging barefoot 

for all is fair in love and torture. 

Love always x