Written on June 1st 2011 as an assignment based on the Calendar, set by John Cassidy for Bank Street Writers, Bolton.

O God of Sun, on Sunnandaeg,

I worship thee with spray -on bronze,

Because thy workload is quite big,

There’ll be a lot of wet week-ends.

God of the Moon, on Monandaeg,

I offer thee my hangover,

Last night I was a lunatic,

Oh I am deep...

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A winsome voice rose
into the unlit sky
its fingers harped
unwakened dreams

A bare vignette lurched
into the shadows
its claws scraped
unshoed expeditions

An arm is raised high
blurry stars in witness
its blood testifies
unquieted aspirations

A voice rose to the Night.
and formed a melody
its waiting days expired
unsought gem wanes.



...

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There was a stone in the lake

And the moon in my hand

There was a stone in my hand

And the moon in the lake

I threw the stone and it became the moon

as it solidified in the water's space

Its mirror a world of twisting creatures,

all skin and fin; water bodies

I threw the moon and it became a stone

A pitted rough hewn chunk

as real as touch, its pres...

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