The ring of the shovel blade as it clears expanses of exposed aggregate in the otherwise unearthly quiet of a frozen winter afternoon.

equine stirring of straw
at breakfast
the grain scoop in the sack
words of love,
sometimes.

port lligat '94

all afternoon the sung world comes to its senses:
flickers of light in the trees,
pixels of warmth,
skitter of geckos crossing a dry stone wall.
i find the threaded pebble and the listening shell.

construction site

background humming, clanging, pounding, shouting,
creating the golden monstrosity in slow motion.

yew glade, kingley vale

where gas-blue eyes close
upon this country of mile-deep woods
and all thinking has stopped
like the calm at the edge of a snowfall

Loudspeaker Announcement Lady of Ostbahnhof

I know you are a recorded voice
mixed together in fragments by a computer
but you sound lovely and warm to my ears
if I were a man or lesbian I'd want to marry you right away
you sooth me whenever trains are 20 minutes late or fail to go at all
it's simply nice to know you and I know you're beautiful!
- ah well, maybe not so sexy than the real-time Announcement Lady they sometimes have at Ostkreuz, but that's OK.

^^^ street work? or what? :(

nah, someone getting zapped with an electric stun gun

mute

cob and pen,
burnes abandoned boatyard.

slack water,
when the god of silt and shipwrecks murmurs across the ebb tide.

nightfall,
and the gloaming on the slipway settles down
to just that shade of blue
where everything that's lost is rendered
visible.

road trip
sun in my eyes
radio's playing tunes

on the asphalt
zooming in my car
vrooming in 5th gear

and i am singing

pause

living caesura. more than the sum of my parts. i'm waiting for the limbo of a life that goes without saying, in a circle in the sand of blackened wood where someone has stopped before now to light a fire. the angel of the roads maybe,or the panic of standstills.