interrupted-transmission

The rain falls on the roof like hands on hand drum.
The rain makes the roof audible. The roof makes the rain audible.
Like wind and tree sing together,

rivers running over rocks,
waves on a pebbled shore.


My ship ran aground on the sand-banks
Before reaching the open sea

Just as the wind began to rise
My kite became caught in a tree.

Maudlin sunset
Unhappy dusk.


We went to sea, my brother and I,
Only one of us returned
He to heaven did safely go
While alive my soul is already below.

A coward’s song, a coward
It is not a man which lives, what is left of me does not deserve the name
A pile of cold ashes-
Wind! Disperse these ashes!

(scene fades to black)


He has forfeited his own soul
What remains of him now?

It is too late for repentance.
For this man there can be no salvation, only punishment.

Guards! Whip this man!

Above the temple gates are written the words

‘The man who finds the key will find no lock in which it fits.’

When asked to explicate this statement the Spiritual Leaders issued this statement.

‘The human’s true ontological status is that of the tool. Whenever the human is not used, he is nothing. He can find no escape from servitude, for he is that which is used.’

Fissile dreams.
Ice blossom.

Fractious General Assembly.
Freddie’s feeling poorly.

Brain on fire
nerves overloaded
feedback hiss.

The birds are the spies of God.