On a bicycle built for one

A plane might represent life as we think it is, a rapid spurt of growth from the familiar to the abstract, but talking about ghosts assumes a bicycle built for one.


Observed from a moving horse the vestiges look steep.


Wandering the city streets one may have the impression of seeing poetry there, rather than in books: this one is standing exaggeratedly close to this one: here and there a hand is introduced, in any old way.


When the flier ripples in the wind the notice is sweet.


Power applies an invisible T-square to the workers – their actions will only become belligerent when the T-square is revealed; until then a natural wash works well to calm the interior finch.


In a strip cartoon it is always the silent partner who is making the noise.


What if we stamp on the sour grapes of propaganda, the grapes that lead to private consent? Then we will be able to see gestures for what they are – material, prototypes, to be worked on and through, and to be assembled, ultimately into a form of social seraglio.