Postmarked from a Café

This greeting comes cold from the residue of morning, 3rd October. Last draff of coffee in the cup on a saucer that would rather be the stippled salver that serves red to passersby and those who scan the street for things to watch and then behold anthuriums for sale at the florist. “Paris” 2014 —

Don’t Waste Paris

Don’t waste the joy of new places on absent sources of heartache. Don’t Waste Paris on a Broken Heart.

Degas’s Business Card

The truth-teller draws from a pocket the laminated slide of mm 85 x 55. You read – it turns pellucid. Through the foramen you see the blade that cuts a lover’s sup and dulled lime drunk alone in place of absinthe’s sleight of bliss. Here life ferments and the contact details for the artist sit

Don’t Waste Paris on a Broken Heart

A blue sky over Notre Dame Advice for *   Don’t waste Paris on a broken heart next to the Cathedral Notre Dame where yellow-petalled violas squint their purple eyes at you shadowing their beds as you turned: his hands on her, embracing on the Seine.   From April 2012 — Who takes the bus