Just Shy Of Sunrise

I don’t remember my last cigarette, but I can still taste the first one: dried banana leaves (shag) clumsily rolled into a cigar, smoked hidden in the grass behind a ‘liberal’ neighbour’s yard, a rebel who’d never reveal the passage rites of new teens testing the boundaries. I wasn’t alone; my cousin of the same … Continue reading

Catching The Light

I share the same light today, Generously dancing, Everywhere Reflections dingle, Dangle on the walls, On the wood, Behind me and beside, Playfully Caressing. I want to catch one as they slowly dwindle. So strong this morning, Defined and reassuring it was. Now drawing, Gentle reflections of an afternoon’s end Escaping my grasp. Little branches … Continue reading

International

I awoke in Bangkok, swathed in Swedish duvet, aroused by the scent of happy hibiscus from Korean vases, to chatter, drifting in with the wind from Englishmen next door, swearing in German at hangovers consigned by Russian vodka. Hunger, gnawing at preferences, French croissants, with classic Seville orange marmalade. Imperial Maybelline, pit-a-pat on Persian rugs … Continue reading

Ajar

September Seeps: Scarves & Socks by Mitch Lang September seeps in. That quilt is starting to feel a little light. The one you would kick off a few days earlier. Something frisky hints at change. Morning is late. That stuffy nose feeling. That first light scarf. The one you bought on the Summer sales. When … Continue reading

The Jam is On

Mitch Lang indulges the crew with sweet and sticky, tantalising pleasures.  The Captain is most pleased. Apricot Dancer You stood there looking down upon me for so long concentrated, appealing glistening and gleaming embodying the essence of summer’s délice. You weren’t wearing much A little white label of hand-written modesty enveloped and examined in my hands stalling … Continue reading

Bishop takes Queen

Here we are. Have a look in this store window. Show some interest in those wares. Look harder – spy her between the mannequins sitting behind the counter reading. Scribbling. Reading. Florida Müller. She glances up and outward and squints a little with pricked interest at a possible discovery, and I am loath to see … Continue reading

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