The ship is drifting deep here.
Black waters thick as oil, and the tides are sluggish with a honey-like exhaustion.
Above us, the stars, and this voyage is dictated by their bright cold navigation.
New constellations watch us.
There are serpents below.
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2010
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October
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- Lost Without Maps on an All-Hallows Sea
- Samhain Night Melancholy
- Specific Hallowe'ens I Recall.
- Helping Flood the Launderette
- House of Bedsit Mysteries
- Swans and Concordes; Brighton Light from the Mouth...
- Morning Drift
- For the Last Twenty Years
- This Cold Nocturnal Drifting
- First of the Shifted Mornings
- Photographs from an Inland Twilight; Worcester in ...
- Train-Rides through Twilight and the Strange Melan...
- A Morning in a City I Once Lived in
- Splinters from the Worcester Small Hours
- The Eve of Another Return to Worcester
- 8:13am, Half an Hour after Waking up
- Exhaustion
- The Land Beyond the Tracks
- The October Sea
- Back to the Early Morning Missives
- Snow on an October Afternoon
- The Echo of a Childhood Sixty Years Old
- Lost in the Woods
- Craving to Sleep without Guilt
- A Bell Chiming in the Distance
- A Night-Walk Under the Lantern Constellation
- The Phantom Flute-Player in the Prestonville Arms
- A Sigh of Something Perhaps
- There is this and Nothing More
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October
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