Reveil, Boulevard de Clichy – Anders Zorn, 1899 Drunk on Pernod, lost to opium and thoroughly fatigued, gifting smoke rings to ungrateful stars, contemplating an interlude with an immodest, exiled Geisha touting for business somewhere along the Boulevard de Clichy, she found me; saved me. Slapped my wrists, gave me the evil eye, even had … More THE ENGLISHMAN
In abandoned captivity, within a wrought iron cage, within a cold Caen limestone walled cell, within a forgotten fortress set in the shadow of the dark side of civilization, sits an innocent occupant, determined by his sniggering contemporaries to be the guilty party, his crime, the stealing of the hearts of a divided nation. He … More THE PRISONER
To the best of her knowledge Maurelle was French. At least in this dreary realm that was her chosen persona. The bilingual from birth or those unveiled for the sake of reasoning are more often than not puzzled, unsure of their pedigree. Besides, French after all is the language of love and that of those … More MAURELLE
After an unseemly war, indeed any conflict worth its salt, holding hands with the foe in a see-through wrought iron creaky elevator makes for the perfect imaginative indignity. More so when the mechanism is empty of surplus pounding hearts, black widow spiders on heat and coy venomous snakes. Yet when bereft of such additional intrusive … More RADIANT FREAKS
I beg of you never ever spread my ashes in an England at sea An Albion of dogmatists preaching clownish prejudice over clemency This sullied land that would smirk as it amputates my tied identity This island of narcissistic loaded bigots and pliable pauper kin Let the soaring ramparts of Montreuil-sur-Mere be my resting … More STATELESS ASHES
I have broken off diplomatic relations with my left eye. Presently it is more use as a kaleidoscope than an organ of sight. Personally, I blame the Russians. I have no evidence that Putin is behind this yet hold him entirely responsible. That said, reading from screen or book has become more problematic recently. As … More TAKING TIME OUT FROM BLOGGING
The town square, a pernickety, delicate blend of Renaissance and Art Deco construction yet at its centre an ill at ease belfry atop a Romanesque steeple within which a bell chamber housed nought but hibernating bats, muddled moths and the occasional drifter with no fear … More UNDER A BLACK BERET
