Monthly Archives: July 2015

A cat’s philosophy

A cat’s philosophy I am complete. All is held within me. I do not allow light to enter me, I throw it off. I see you And watch you And do not particularly care. Life is noise, I hear it. … Continue reading

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Octavio Paz se laaste dagbreek

Alba Ultima Octavio Paz Tus cabellos se pierden en el bosque, tus pies tocan los míos. Dormida eres más grande que le noche pero tu sueño cabe en este con cuarto. Die laaste dagbreek Jou hare is verlore in die … Continue reading

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To live

To live This is a restless wind that blows past the house. Air rush past around corners, through the branches of trees. Never the same air, always new air from far out at sea. It is a restless wind that … Continue reading

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Listening to the earth

Listening to the earth That was a whisper that entered my ear. But not a human voice; it came from the movinging crust of the earth. It whispered a quetion: What is pain? I am tearing and shoving my body … Continue reading

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Unseen beach

Unseen beach There is nobody on this stretch of beach. Presumably waves push up into the sand, disappear and come again. Perhaps a small, empty nautillus shell is rolled to a standstil on the glistening palm of the beach. Possibly … Continue reading

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Taking control of the day

Taking control of the day I will fly today with my bare hands. Already the engine is running smoothly; I take the controls – we ascend. Underneath the world shapes into a daily routine. Cars move at the rate of … Continue reading

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Comparing apples

Comparing apples I have an iconic shape, said the apple and stroked down its sloping sides with a satisfied smile. I feature in a famous expression that indicate things are going wrong, the pear countered primly. I come in many … Continue reading

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Croesus in suburbia

Croesus in suburbia A hamburger made of solid gold is served up, nice and warm. The car outside has comfortable seats but no engine. You have your reading glasses in your pocket which has no opening. The man who goes … Continue reading

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The vicissitudes of sleep

The vicissitudes of sleep They emerge at night: all of them move noiselessly on strange padded feet. Their eyes are incomprehensibly sad, and their mouths move in the dark in an effort to cry out for help. I hunt them … Continue reading

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Letter to Billy Collins

Letter to Billy Collins on having read one of his poems I have received your shipment and already unpacked the goods. Thank you. I particularly like the words with quietly burning yellow eyes and claws of sharpened tungsten steel. Those … Continue reading

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