there is FAR too much to catch you up on and finding the starting place in the blurr of the past week is a tall order but the ball must be got rolling

so we will start with ART!

between last night and this morning, this is the poem i wrote.
a new voice-



act of waking





she is a difficult harbour
with the most wonderful compartments;
attractive lakes
and rivers that should be loved.
travelling over-night
to her mouth, that North,
her home waters, the still.
parallel to a pill-box.

she had been painted-
hard against yesterday.
a fissure in the mast.
the ice is never ordinary;
expectation read
in the briefest of nods.
her home waters
parallel. a pill-box.






angela simione, 2009