Somewhere on a battlefield in Europe is a cranium, in which echoes an asylum visit. The visit has […]
Why am I Celeste? Why am I, Celeste? Who is the this? What invokes the this that is this, […]
These photographs are from Riverbed Stories, a series I began in 2014 that documents the riverbeds beside the industrial areas of Erith and Dartford. It’s a location that I have been photographing since 2009, during which time it has become more polluted. Mattresses, chairs, televisions, and car tyres litter the beds, along with handless gloves, floating shoes and discarded baby carriages.
“We are as forlorn as children lost in the woods. When you stand in front of me and […]
Donitz parked by the Salvation Army Store. He had an apartment now. His first. He’d always lived with […]
We have read and understood this essay. We have taken away the fundamentals of the lesson: we should use language to better ourselves. We have elected to take this one step further, for the betterment of ourselves. We are concerned with building a stronger and more resilient society that will withstand the blows of false or flaccid language. We will do this by using language as our exercise room.
“It took at least one bottle of whiskey to make a grave. The bottle lay on the brim […]
In the parentheses of Elizabeth Bishop’s Geography III I’d time enough To play with names So big they […]
I’ve tried talking to myself less but it can’t be helped. I’m past forty now so it doesn’t embarrass me as […]
You can never get enough Hanki Kleeneshi if you ask me. I know they’re not asking me, but […]
minor literature[s] 