The sun is shining. The time has come to take a summer break from blogging. Not too long a break, just sufficient enough for dear Shirl and I to partake of a little time travel and do what disgraceful aging juveniles do best. I’ll leave you to guess what the latter might be. In the … More A SUMMER BREAK
Henri Rousseau: The Dream MY OLD STRAW HAT (a fiction) a simmering island mass an entity where moral codes of both the uncaged, untamed vertebrates and spineless wild things long since have fallen foul of tepid fate’s unearthly indifference cloaked saturated evergreen perspiring rooted miscreation’s of a godforsaken helter-skelter intemperate jungle uglifying the less … More MY OLD STRAW HAT
‘…When I am on a pedestal You did not raise me there Your laws do not compel me To kneel grotesque and bare…’ Leonard Cohen from the song ‘Avalanche’ “Taken aback by the exclusive wilderness that eclipsed my ‘Paradise Wasted’ I footslogged best I could, ever onward knowing this neck of the woods was not … More EVE’S CONFESSION UNDER CAUTION
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
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
