speculative fiction
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a frisbee left in the yard, weedgrowing hair-like over the street,the lawnmower left murmuring deep into the night, cars swoop by looking for prey, as trees bendfor a better view, the voyeurs’leaves and branches, the houseis full of silence, and there is plenty of unlight, yet absenceof cold, as the mold deigns to become another
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Blog time: I have this thing where I’ve always been struggling to think of people who have influenced my writing. Being more a writer than a reader when I started, I guess I didn’t have proper influence during my ‘formative years’ as a writer. While later on, I did find plenty of poets who
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spwm day 7
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Finally, you’ve found me. No, sorry: I don’t have all the answers. The ones I do – hoverboards don’t exist. Yes, you grow even taller. You become taller than even Father. No, I’m still single. Yes, you get to buy Power Rangers CDs. Yes, there’s still Pokémon, and yes, Ash still hasn’t won the league.
ugly stage 