you’re enwombed within stone, this anchorhold,wool on your skin, the draught on your feetink on your nose, barley in your teeth.to look at a hazelnut and see everything —...
"The people have solidified since the summer.
Seized up in the cold.
No longer fluid
Melting and melding together in the sun
They can be discerned as individuals now.
Separate entities two metres apart."
"A delicate chain bobs around his neck (his neck being the whole length of his body, which is just one long neck really); he bought it after watching Normal Worms. Maybe if he looked like worm-Connell, he imagines, things would have been different. Maybe worm-Sharon wouldn’t have left him for worm-Darren."
"Rain cracks its whip
Against the windows. The wielder: autumn.
From the cottage in the cleft of the foothills
You can see a flickering light, just out of sight
And it stains the blackest night."
"A worm has beaten me to the hole I’m digging;
when I pull apart the soil, I find
a slender punctuation mark in the mud.
Its pink body threads through the dark clay."
"It was uncommonly sultry and dark when I arrived at the Winchester water meadows. The scene was a
near stereotype, and it reminded me of those decrepit - far too embellished - landscapes you see in many
royal palaces."
"Now, God’s people are soon to flee,
Into the wilderness and coarser sands
He takes them, they at last are free,
But I, loyal servant, loving wife,
What is God’s plan for me?"
"Then there is a sudden pull – my loose thoughts spill over the pebbly surface of the page. Images crashing and breaking against sobering stillness, propelling seafoam into the air, rumpling the Edenic crispness of the page."
"The photographs on the walls show people years ago in the same spot.
Did they feel the same, love the same, breathe the same.
It seems impossible that they did, even more so that they did not."
"Two cultures, both alike in dignity
In times of (un)fair Corona, where we lay our scene
From ancient tradition one plans to be set free
where alcohol makes the liver unclean
From forth the fatal minds of these two foes
Parents worry they'll lose the apple of their eye;
with misadventures and revealing clothes
Do with Fresher's Week her dignity will die."
"And I sat with my back to the skies
as I mouthed out a prayer to the winds
and imagined them ghosts; for where I sat, half-anaesthetised,
four children had used to sit"
People often say that progress,
is not always linear.
and p r o g r e s s,
sometimes doesn't always look like 2,000 words* (including citations) on a Microsoft Word document"
