The Haybale Hair
καί ποτέ μιν στυφελιζομένου σκύλακος παριόντα φασὶν ἐποικτῖραι καὶ τόδε φάσθαι ἔπος·“παῦσαι, μηδὲ ῥάπιζ᾿,ἐπεὶ ἦ φίλου ἀνέρος ἐστὶν ψυχή, τὴν ἔγνων φθεγξαμένης ἀϊών.” —Xenophanes, Fr.7
Barsley
Random scribblings from my errant Muse
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Latest posts
The Lilith-Land
A Pastoral Of Sorts
Drinking & Fucking
A Love Song
Supposing...
Supposing I should meet you soon—
The Eggman's Wife
The eggman's wife just opened up the door At nine AM.
Wedding Song
My darling let us marry. My darling let us wed No banns no fuss—a witness and a priest— No honeymoon—but straightaway to bed There waiting in th'adjacent suite. Go build your nest of cottonthreads and down— A sleepy hedgehog wintering in brown, A fungus nestling snug among the moss— I shan't disturb.
Retard Dog
I knew this mangy retard of a mutt— I hated him.
After Mimnermus
An Exercise in a Cyrenaic Mode
Decline and Fall
Man is born in the nominative: nothing but name;
August Diptych
I. Two lovers and the cherries and the game