through the silence clicks from the central heating ticks from the clock
black against black
in the car park a crow
pecks at the frost
*
strings and a bow that’s all it takes though maybe a hand would help and a shoulder to cry on
snowman plays Bach
a scarecrow Vivaldi
who cares
*
all my best work thrown out with the rubbish this sea of troubles
corrugated iron
a crow silhouetted
perched on a wave
Diana Webb
miniatures: 6
a flush in the hand you are holding still enough to compensate for the death that waits due north of this death
your pulse
syncopates—
scag clouds
–
miniatures: 16
taking the chance the thrill the not knowing the him the her the me or any of this dank matter held together by the weak forces that will inevitably cause our decay
twilight—
waiting to be picked up
by the blockchain
–
miniatures: 30
anyway take my trade tiny cop imposter and mute the bond yet smelted warm to the slob touch of a grasshopper
midnight sun—
grooming the coats
of roadkill
Brendan Slater
… and if he just created an artificial intelligence that was able to create an artificial intelligence
hidden
below all the snow
an old dream
Eva Limbach
They do physical exercises in the park every saturday, and every saturday I smoke a cigarette and watch them from the big window of my living room.
falling leaves
the different levels
of loneliness
Andrea Cecon
On this sunny spring day the panorama is dreamy as we approach the settlement, but the soviet gloominess of Volodarka brings me back to reality very soon…
ukrainian prairies —
our eyes
seeking eyes
Andrea Cecon
