March 2012
14 posts
Julia & The Boy in the Blue Jumper
The Boy in the Blue Jumper
Part 1 of the Sea Stories
The twins were a two step thing which took their mother much music to learn. But for all this, they hated her, and for a time this was enough because she loved around them and in all their broken fingernails and hair left in garden dirt. But like a tap tap tapping on their mother’s head, as space filled up around them she heard less and less...
Moonshine
Moonshine
Every twenty-eight days, when the Moon had turned her face to the stars to nap after a long month of watching over us, we would throw a party in town. We would light a big bonfire in the square and dance and keep each other up all night, then sneak into bed before the sun could see who had made such a mess. But there was one Dark Night when a young man who, having no interest in women...
Set Opinion
Set Opinion
The sky is milk white and when I was younger
My mother fed it to me in baby bottles.
Now I sit at my desk in the classroom, seem quite ordinarily,
Uniformly like everyone else
Who sits listening with one ear for the bell,
The views from the windows are purple hills and
A clouded sky, quite ordinary, as if painted
On a wall,
The white light lands on the surface of the
Desks as always...
Our Lady of the Worms
Our Lady of the Worms
Within two weeks of entering the circle, I was given a role in a ritual surrounding you. I began to call myself ‘Our Lady of The Worms’. I would kneel beside your tiny body, your head hidden by a mound of earth and twigs. In preparation for you being in this position, I had another, more minor role. An afterthought role: to cover all around your eyes in kohl....
Turn & Charles Baudelaire's Spaceship
Everywhere I Turn
1
My sister falls out of a tree
and cracks her skulls open
and the ravens swoop down and mix
omelettes out of her spilled brains
and cast their dark shadows over her split face.
2
My brothers form an orderly
queue to take turns putting their heads in the fire.
They take off their aprons
and their shoes and they jump in
leaving me standing here
warming my hands by the...
WatchMartha Daly transcends the line between art wanker and pest. Does a tumble im-marthadaly.tumblr.com
The Man Who Was Bones
As he looked around him, standing at the photocopier as he was, he couldn’t help but notice that while his skin remained his own as did his organs and his mind there was something else on top of him that prevented his mind from controlling his body. It was another layer of skin, identical to his own, but floating about a millimetre or so, most likely much less, above his own skin and his own...
