Year: 2020

Perverse drought, powerless, swelling in your barns. Fruit and produce, blight and mildew. And on the land, the cattle fall. Frustration, sworn to soil and dust, the sand …

My fingers touch dry strokes from a brush on a canvas from last year. So delicately you worked that piece. The landscape – brilliant greens and soft browns, …

They move and glide in droves outside the passage brothel, through the alleyway, to their mud nests. He watches her floral skirt, twenty minutes – how she lingers …

The brothel was cold, and the numbness of her panting, was cold, but inviting – Unhappiness and self-pity. And then asleep, her snoring pleasurable, gentle in the murky …

Her boots, and her laces tethered, and her shawl sloppy around tired shoulders. Always a sequence, always the same, but not today. In the distance, a frozen lake. …

Pastel shades, gold and scarlet, splendid in the evening light, the cleanest shades. The room, largely decorative with plumes of grey and black and blue. They called it …

Did you just die, I can’t hear you anymore. Frantic, out of control, you buzzed your last while trying to escape, the blinding light that tempts you to …

He dressed eccentrically at the most – striped trousers and a top hat bowler. And a long coat and gaudy shirt. His eyeglasses would swing on a chain, …

Taut line of thin manila, rope creaking, on dusty rafters swinging. In your shame. Forty years of dead weight, then like a pendulum still. It was three days …

The pictures taught him respectability. One of a young Jewish girl, with tattered stripes and the yellow ‘Judenstern’. Another of broken bones and ash cloud plumes above chimney …