Number 11, 1952 Watching them raise across the plainin time to dead stop my dent of caron the Alpine WayIn the middle of nowhere somewherehundreds of brumbies in vermin galloptheir seeing nonchalancePassing me in their own time lostheads tossing eyes askance watchingfoals and predatorsAs I gasp a forlorn unbid admirationthe herd wild over the sealed … Continue reading Number 11, 1952
Author: James Walton
Breathless, Artificial Intelligence
Breathless, Artificial Intelligence They were the words of my birth heard without comprehensiondigits in the countdown tasked for the demands of separationthen spinning in set routine functions a language alpha numericwe conversed by logistics plus transmissions spent earlierin curve and bounce restored for occasional retro speakthe algorithms began to stretch beyond the clocked sequencetime gave … Continue reading Breathless, Artificial Intelligence
Some short speculative fiction of mine in Panoply.
Winter’s tremble comes
Winter’s tremble comes The first cold night wraps itself for snapautumn’s breath quiet now exhalesthe last warmth into the catcher’s mitta windy day braces chatter to nilthe score is one fire starter to gokindling stacked ready for the slideinto this unlighted stand clappingwaiting for some incendiary songa captive bird entrapped within thereunheard and unseen in … Continue reading Winter’s tremble comes
Piscine Epiphanies
Piscine epiphanies. I got a little pissed last evening. The label said Vote Responsibly, a fundraiser. The frozen fish and chips were cooking in the oven, yes, I know the contradiction there. Dancing to Nina Simone, in a way which so disturbed the cat, unused to a show of less inhibition. Still, I sang along … Continue reading Piscine Epiphanies
Lost Covenant and me
Lost Covenant and me or is it, ‘I’cannot recall and that’spart of the problemI had a piece of sky fallin my pocket you loaned methe Harris Tweed jacketoverlong sleevestook it out at the inaugurationthere was something abouthepatitis written in Russianyou get the drift?and the ducks on the Potomacoverfed so luxuriantlazing humming old tunestook me all … Continue reading Lost Covenant and me
End of the Affair
End of the Affair This ménage a trois has to ceaseone of us needs to get some sleepseduced by your musky squatnessso down to earth you treadon your own moonlit shadow honestly things have changedsince you cast such passiondigging up the latent bulbschomping down Spring’s iris and daffodilsabandoning all thought of me you reacted badly … Continue reading End of the Affair
She wears a cloud
She wears a cloud a beret at overflowits nod to a morning brim until evening turns to songwithin the netted plenty draws finger and thumb to choosea cow’s lick cusping you in the morningwheaten harvest falling
Keepsake peace, flour and water
Keepsake peace, flour and water by the front hall door it satyears after they had all grownthe cardboard box gone floppywhere the creaky sun spied throughthe plaster of paris flakythe kindergarten crinkled cellophaneover the heavy acrylics of handstoddler signaturesslow printed joythe stretching crayon wiggly namesdays waiting to expandand if we had collected them allthe host … Continue reading Keepsake peace, flour and water
Avignon
Avignon In a car park outside a walled citywhere the desert ashs tossedand the plane trees drenched hay fever,you told me you loved mewith an unquenched furyall seasons ardent like hard rain on concrete,more androgynous thenthan Bob and Sara’s Chelsea roomsour album cover by Schiele. I ate an avocado out of the small of your … Continue reading Avignon