At Home in The Pandemic on a Raft
Written March 2020 Are you at home with the pandemic? I am sitting at home during lockdown writing about my experiences with madness, and the crisis of this pandemic feels familiar
Swallowed by the sun
I stand at the crossroads. I’m in sodden ground. I cannot be shifted to fertile soil. The decay has set in. How does a man marry such sunken existence? How does he care about
Dark Process
First I think a thought. It is a shadow at dusk. Rarely is it the sun’s clear light. So I write the shadow. I put a full stop. I sit and wait for light. Nothing. I am used to not
Voice of Intent
I do not know myself. This bone house acts without thinking, like a chicken running with its head cut off. I brandish my sword, stab others, and feel remorse. I do not learn from m