JupiterMoon
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My stories
the lovers of Boulevard Saint-Germain
the lovers of Boulevard Saint-Germain there is permanence, woven into the way you hold one another; delicate, yet insistent, speaking of love found...
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- 735 reads
care
care the liveried care worker smokes on the threshold, furiously spitting her own drama, into the face of an old woman who peeps fearful from...
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- 661 reads
ladies and gentlemen, the Trafford Centre is now open...
Ladies & Gentleman, the Trafford Centre is Now Open the snaking lines of German automation simmer in the baking weekend sun, resentment clogging the interiors like a drowning gruel.
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- 482 reads
margins
margins i am becoming like a series of pencil strokes; an addendum. squeezed in without thought whilst waiting for the kettle to boil. just a name, left to curl and fray
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- 585 reads
my fallen owl
my fallen owl thrown to the gutter, in a spluttered thunderstorm of progress, my owl lies cold in an open grave. an ill fitting shroud, patched together from sodden litter.
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- 1362 reads