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My stories
On Temple Street
In the amber light of morning, after the markets, the street is awash: plastic and vegetable scraps lie at the feet of the last few Chinese hookers, standing in doorways, marooned in morning.
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- 767 reads
Johns
Johns Midnight in Neptune's Two: the bar seethes. The Filipino band belts out seventies rock, the right stuff for the Johns perched on the stools, heavy hams shifting. They sip their beers,
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- 656 reads
Self Portrait
Self Portrait A man stands before an undergraduate class, talking about Lear and the chain of being. Two rows back a blonde girl sits, exquisite, her hair a cloud of light in the darkened hall:
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- 548 reads
The Queen of Hennessy Road
The Queen of Hennessy Road To call her enigmatic or opaque is laughable- she makes the Sphinx transparent. She loves every man, her climax is swift and vocal; she takes her fee with just the right reluctance -
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- 745 reads
Black Kite
Black Kite I look up, startled by that familiar keening whistle of a kite, soaring over Po Wah Yuen, watch the bird tilt and slide away over the village. Like scents, so sounds always stay in the memory,
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- 884 reads