I need to return at midnight to see what appears on that perfect little shelf. My bet's on several framed photographs and, almost immediately, a single lick of flame to scorch them illegible. What do you reckon.

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Went out on the last cold day of spring and found a new ruin.


I was so overcome by the pervasive floral jubilance as to be left incapable of worrying about the extended shotgun fusillade emanating from the trailhead.

Froggy vernal fog-songs about fucking to spite the heron and the high creek.

The shallow end, near the steps, is dry & shaded enough for snowdrops, while the sodden, iron-rich soil halfway down the pool is just right for growing a bumper crop of rust-ripe serrate scrap.

I found a raw book by the glasshouse ruin, a posthumous volume of correspondence collecting several hundred ardent invitations to saproxylic suitors.

What if we land and drink from this runoff feeder-beck and in sympathy turn to oil-sheen glass, stand statue for decades watching water and dust and water then remember we're alive and fly off.

I hit the tower just past 3 AM and the cricket machines were as loud as I'd ever heard them.

I walked for hours, encountering neither a lull in the storm nor a fellow meanderer.

The snow fell in such thick clots that I twice mistook its wind-curved motion for a hawk's swoop.

We span slowly in place to test the temperature of each compass point, then followed the cold northwest.

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Despite the wind, snow clung to the smallest branches & drifts cumulated in the folds of our scarves.

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On the bridge over the black oil creek, we thought we heard a child's voice.

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The pylons were stung by the sleet-filled wind, like us, and rattled their maintenance locks.

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Eldritch Café

Une instance se voulant accueillante pour les personnes queers, féministes et anarchistes ainsi que pour leurs sympathisant·e·s. Nous sommes principalement francophones, mais vous êtes les bienvenu·e·s quelle que soit votre langue.

A welcoming instance for queer, feminist and anarchist people as well as their sympathizers. We are mainly French-speaking people, but you are welcome whatever your language might be.