Eight minutes ago, a message came. Nowadays it is common to feel uneasy at any phone call you receive. Generally it’s going to be a robot scam, or bad news. Eight minutes ago a text message came to the phone … Continue reading Coma Miracle
This is a fragment, scribbled into the sand and light slab of miracles we call a phone. I’m sitting in a waiting room in the hospital while my youngest son is assessed by a paediatrician. My wife is in the … Continue reading Thinking in an Emergency Ward
Who would you like to talk to soon? Face of a warm sunrise Laugh of the unabashed brook That filtered the silence that only a thousand trees can make Broken tongues and milky stares Through the depth of curved plastic … Continue reading A Dying Mountain
23 minutes on the Phone It’s a twenty-three minute phone call, which is the measure of shame I feel about the relationship I have with my mother these days. I knew I was getting old, but now it is clear … Continue reading The Fourth Stage
The streets echo the serpentine curve of the valley and the river, freed from the shackles of the mountains that rapidly become hills and the Pannonian steppe. Facing to the east, the patchwork of farmland fades in the haze that … Continue reading The Shoemaker’s Glue
Drupes of lava flow Hover in my memory Drenched in Earth’s sweetness Stories of Uncles, Fathers, And joy in cold concrete worlds. Continue reading Redcurrant Winter
The air cannot steal this water The dance of words is drowned out in the sound of the wind, which picks up at around 2 in the morning and persists in an unending stream, like the roar of a waterfall. … Continue reading Snow Eater
The shuffling of a river, the careful prayers of the wet soil healing waters, larches weep and I lost a shoe in the muddy turmoil where the water is sweetest Only a sudden fall of snow can break this spell … Continue reading Chant of the Ruby Pheasant
Fast is a relative to who I have found, he eats redcurrants and sugar owns a stack of t-shirts in a rainbow Every step was a rhythm into pain, and later nothing Am I slowing down? His glasses and dissolute … Continue reading Cadence and an Uncle
Down the track,Rivers cry their way through the scrubAnd watch the buildings growLike lilies after snowAnd walk back,Shivers while the day fades to a nubTo drink hot tea with UncleWhose voice you barely knowThese hills are smaller on returnAnd feel … Continue reading Unknown Uncle
Six supermarkets, warmth and light and from the bitter we took flight Crossed the tracks and walked the cold And felt the old world strange and bold Hated by the guiding hand We strangers to the Buckled Land A little … Continue reading A Weary Time
The grey light, only more so,Under the auspices of ceiling tilesSurrounded by all the snow.I am cold, I am alone.Watching the crowds gatherHearing the snow rustleTasting the deathly airGlazed eyes, red noseWhat hope for us all?Though nothing will ever break … Continue reading Those frightening times
His face is plump and decorated with the sort of moustache that immediately comes to mind when thinking of the European male stereotype, and indeed he is truly the embodiment of the traditional Austrian man. Continue reading 3 Stories of an Uncle
Blaze of Obscurity 