But what, I ask myself, is halter? Maybe it is this the thing that I feel I have been missing, the unnamed unworking cog that makes me such a mess. Bread I have, barn I have visited, but halter? I added it to my shopping list thoughtfully, between eggs and eiren.Read More For all there is to give I offer: bread, barn and halter.
So I have said, more or less out loud, more or less sincerely, to no fewer than six boys and girls. My greatest shame is my last interaction with a lover I didn’t love that much: Him: “It’s not working out.” Me: “I shall cease weeping after we part only when my heart dries up.” […]Read More I shall cease weeping after we part only when my heart dries up.
Trudith Shaw was born; for this she apologises. She concedes that she was not involved in the decision – nor, indeed, was anyone: her mother has described her as “a happy mistake” – yet she takes full responsibility for her twenty years of life. Unable to pinpoint the exact moment she started “fucking everything up”, […]Read More An Apology for the Life of Trudith Shaw
And may our corpses serve As stepping stones to lead you to the throne. So I thought, not so sincerely as I might have, as a lady pushed past me to fill the last, person sized space in the lift. In a fit of confrontational spirit (fed by the belief I would never see her […]Read More Stepping Stones