This I know, the symbol is the gateway to delusion, Blurring to deceiving smoke The border between fact and error. Making havoc in the brain’s fine algebra, By symbol, the fantastic structure is made too strong, Too firm a palace against sad reality. She has been kidnapped from her usual world of glitter and luxury, … Continue reading Bellefleur


Hedy Lamarr’s Tuna Salad Recipe

1 One evening, Olivia de Havilland prepares — with great concern to adhere to the strict instructions on the tin, even to the extent of using her reading glasses — Hedy Lamarr's Marine Fresh™ Skipjack Tuna Salad recipe, and finds it not good. Lettuce, hard-boiled egg, apple, celery. Cardboard, she reckons, multiply. As tasteless as. … Continue reading Hedy Lamarr’s Tuna Salad Recipe

In Parkland (Preview)

1 The morose poet Mayakovsky sits down next to her, And, just so that she cannot mistake his intentions, says: —I do not exist. Ok, she can cope with that. —But you'll have an orange juice... or a coffee, won't you? You look like you need something. The magic hour. He watches the bumbling carp … Continue reading In Parkland (Preview)

The 24 Deaths of MH – Part 2

The Journalist is persistent and dedicated; she has a lot of integrity. Specifically tasked, she lies in wait for him, the Pathologist. Winsome, that specific species of prettiness, she thinks she can probably screw herself up into, for a sufficient length of time to accomplish the job. And the probity, on which she prides herself … Continue reading The 24 Deaths of MH – Part 2

The 24 Deaths of MH – part 1

MH was a rock singer. By family he was a New Zealander, so was an Antipodean rocker. That's the thing with birth: suddenly, out of nothing, you are something. No one can say you are other than that. Context has arrived, perhaps already too much. You're rolling down those rails. Disappointingly for MH, the time … Continue reading The 24 Deaths of MH – part 1


Rarely revealing anything of their private universe, signs are forthright about which part of the signee's universe is to be abbreviated. Signs are hectoring. It has been at least a couple of years now since I saw a sign counselling: Go Forth and be Free. I saw it in my head. Anyway, these are fortunately … Continue reading Signs


The gambler says:—Tell them I came, but no-one answered. Entranced, as the gambler is ever, by the lovely mathematics in softest lighting, the ballet of numbers, the chemin-de-fer, the vingt-et-un. Good evening, enchanté that you could join us tonight, When he enters, M'sieu, your usual. Rum and stunning fractured ice placed at the elbow, A … Continue reading Casino

The Compendium of Degenerates – part 12

The cloth remained on the barkeep's shoulder, ghostly of the casual and practised flick, ein Bund Idioten, the SPD guys are in the Niedrige Kneipe tonight, unruly and impossible. —Mierscheid will pay, he is in the john. The SPD make a run for it, scattering across Mulackstraße. They are anarchists really, the bastards. They're so … Continue reading The Compendium of Degenerates – part 12

The Compendium of Degenerates – part 13

How Florian and Pim had come to be acquainted: In 1918, having reached an age, Florian had gone to the Exemption Board. With a pacifist theme worked out, demeaning but safest. Somehow, during one of the interviews, a physician had got something else into his head — a nuance, or even a code, transmitted mistakenly, … Continue reading The Compendium of Degenerates – part 13

The Compendium of Degenerates – part 11

Florian the pollster. Although he has made no such promise, scrupulously not, his subjects often gain the vague impression a verbal contract has been entered into. A free drink in return for their input. So after his survey, with its very few questions, has been completed, often there is a gap, a pause, pregnant: —Where's … Continue reading The Compendium of Degenerates – part 11