rigid DOGmas, snarl their flesh-lusting chiselled fangs. glimmering in synthetic white light. stained with the blood of kooks & spooks outlaws, revolutionaries, forest dwellers, fairies, nymphs. perhaps this is the steak upon which we should be feasting? meat that’s crammed with candour, and concerned contemporaries- the steak of the rigid dogma. rigid DOGma, you used … More Rigid DOGmas.
I don’t want to be a zombie. Dragging my feet numbly through the shopping mall. I don’t want to be a zombie. Clocking in and clocking out and clocking in and clocking out and in and out and in and out. Until one day I clock out for good and all I have to look … More I don’t want to be a zombie.
There was a fork in the road, a liminal place, guarded by three witches holding silver plates. On one sat a bird, another held a golden trumpet. The last held the hand, of a small elven man, with pointed ears and a frozen grin. The witches said if you’re afraid to fly or make noise like … More wobbling through the cross road
I heard the revolution call, it came knocking on my door. The windows shook, and the floorboards trembled, with the force of its beckon. I heard the revolution call, I had read its invitation a while ago. Written in code, symbolic transcript, a tongue I did not speak, but the messaged seeped in slowly, planting … More revolution no.I