Encounter | Poem

He stared at the old man sitting at a small table in the temple, that is the atrium of the Promenada Mall, sipping coffee.

Immoral Kiss: Two Poems

Turning colours in my mouth, words sticking to my teeth and tongue, I pass through my days. In corners of warmth, I sit gently down and acquaint myself to strangers.

My Provinceland: Ceded Back to Nature

As we’re packing up to leave, we talk to John about the dead seal. He confirms that someone has been shooting the seals this summer because they gawp up bait and compete for the catch of the commercial fishermen.

Catch of the Day

Alhambra would be her first priority tomorrow, with the Alcabaza fort a close second. Picasso would have to be fitted in on Sunday afternoon. What would she say to her shrink?

Homeless Days

Three hours later, I decided to get some sleep. I went up into a pocket of concrete, where there were about sixty pigeons. Some other men were already sleeping there.