The Way It Is

It is the way it is. The newborn bird dead on the ground and the rooks wanting it.

I want my life over again. No, not that, I want my life to be, over again.

I wanted to open a book I had written to find in it words other than those I had written.

The mistake has been staring staring at me in the face at every opening.

Later, I may try to tell you a story about going into a bookshop.

Everything can be explained with a dream. Once I did not believe that.

I want to say it doesn’t matter.

It will always be in the writing.


On the Knife Edge

He finished reading the novel and was struck by the thought that he was no more than a moral coward like the character.

Respites in between

What the Dickens

You must understand
it is the artistry
that must be paid for
but not in money
but in, the blood and sweat they would say,
...