Though the the street sleeper isn't moving, his paperback lies beside him. I have a paperback on World War Two in my bag. It is always late in the German supermarket, always an hour before closing. Processed food can bring you home for a time. I read somewhere that GIs in the 40s would … Continue reading World War Two Word Association
The sewn field of France are a rumble out the window. Power lines and embankments. Churches bombed out during the Great War (now rebuilt). The Stalingrad metro station and the guitarist’s inhabiting therein. I ran out of money, and it caused me some distress. I had coffee this morning, and woke up with a sore … Continue reading Bombed-out Churches (now rebuilt)
Stranger with a mullet and baggy cargo pants. Keep smiling because it's all that can't be taken from you. That's what he said in broken English with a French accent, begging for money. Parisian metro scalpers. Unfortunates. The note grows sharp and the train rattles forward. No, I have nothing to give you. Faint smile, till … Continue reading Beggar on the Metro
Without you, my output has been prolific, scribbling and scratching till ink blots cease making stanzas, but rather rise up mountains, winding away, lost in countless valleys. Mists of Gleann Dá Loch, I'm standing frigid in the water till the birds make nests of the curls of my hair. Meandering mystic, and speaker aloud on the … Continue reading Saints and Abandoned Chateaus
I can remember quite clearly, the way that you would wake up when I got into bed at 5 in the morning. Your hair was short then, and when I ran my fingers through I, I always felt the strands end too soon, and then they were on the back of your neck, and then … Continue reading Postmarks
Ryan Shockey Davis 