The Compendium of Degenerates – part 4

Where do you want to go? I’d like to go to Salem, or Timbuctoo, or Atlantis; you choose… Otmar and Ottilie, eastwards they go. If it were another century, perhaps not so fortunately, but today there are no wars, no Mamelukes or the Khanate of the Golden Horde moving across to meet them. Brigands? No,Continue reading “The Compendium of Degenerates – part 4”

The Compendium of Degenerates – part 3

The corn in its early summer dash, at that stage when it seems to grow an inch as you watch it. Fecundity, virility. An efficient and organised approach. Knowing what it was there for. Getting on with it. Heading to the top, nowhere else to go. Otmar has been poaching, and has come up empty-handed.Continue reading “The Compendium of Degenerates – part 3”

The Compendium of Degenerates – part 2

Produced by a local physician — and Otmar had been persuaded by the 40 trillion marks, which, in his hand, had turned into 27 trillion marks — on account of a photographer’s fee, this deduction to be found in the very small print only. As they both live in a small village, where people haveContinue reading “The Compendium of Degenerates – part 2”

The Compendium of Degenerates – part 1

—God is that being than which none greater can be conceived, says Professor Kronecker. —Stop there, please, replies Professor Cantor, sighing at the thoughts of his colleague or enemy. Are we now placing a limit on human conception? Kronecker sighs in return. He has designed a few words on the ontological argument for the existenceContinue reading “The Compendium of Degenerates – part 1”

Mayakovsky in Parkland – part 8

In slow secrecy, Electra allows the high-built towers to soak into her. Secure their anchor to the rock of the planet, tethered, they go only to the sky. Clever to demand belief in the way they do and she isolates their vile success: Belief demanded from those never shown another way, (Their hustings are notContinue reading “Mayakovsky in Parkland – part 8”

Mayakovsky in Parkland – part 7

Electra is in a lot of humans, is a lot of humans, but this has been a bomb in the city. A bombshell, with repercussions. —I know it won’t change anything, says Electra. (No, you’re doing yourself down.) —All the same, says the morose poet, I think we are getting closer. With his best step-gentlyContinue reading “Mayakovsky in Parkland – part 7”

Mayakovsky in Parkland – part 6

Mayakovsky arrives with plans for the woman to be a tightrope walker, terpsichorean feats of balance, scaler, scalar and scales, Libra and librium— But is pre-empted by the scene… Coming across a woman furiously paddling a grave for herself, Not keeping off the grass, The slithy earth ejected behind her in sprays. By which heContinue reading “Mayakovsky in Parkland – part 6”

Mayakovsky in Parkland – part 5

Might have been a different woman yesterday: even as a ghost, he finds it hard to be unequivocal. Bumbling bluegrey carp in a murky pond, the post-noon too hot to bother, Sure of it he is, She’s got eyes for the stagnancy (and if blinded tonight might be happier), The laziness from populace to governance,Continue reading “Mayakovsky in Parkland – part 5”

Mayakovsky in Parkland – part 4

—Do you know how many mourners Chekov got for his funeral? —No… —Thousands. —You don’t know how many? —Not exactly. —Not even in thousands? —No. She composes the pleats of her skirt to an accordion. —I’m only having a wild stab in the dark here, but… you only got four people and a dog? GluedContinue reading “Mayakovsky in Parkland – part 4”

Mayakovsky in Parkland – part 3

—There is only a thin dusting of devils in the city… and we rarely meet, Says Mayakovsky, the august and effulgent poet, Long after his doom. —There is only a thin dusting of devils in the city, and we do not often meet. He wonders about the detonating power of this string of words thatContinue reading “Mayakovsky in Parkland – part 3”