I know I’m bad – it’s just my Nature. Yours is like the weather... I recognise patterns, but I’ll be fucked if I know what you’re gonna do next... And I don’t mind when you berate me, it’s like standing in a storm... You wash me clean! And I've drowned here before, so what have… Continue reading To a force of Nature
One day the Sun Herself shall descend from Heaven to award me an honorary doctorate in celestial anthropology, and we will go out for drinks. Until that day comes, I will not be accepting any more prizes – I have enough already.
Whether it's a guru's maze, a mandala – some inexplicable thing curving into itself; a complex of neural connections: just another ambivalent chemical highway; or a library full of French metaphors: a dusty vault of socio-political guff – every time I find myself moving through, I wind up arriving back here, at you.
If people were oceans, you'd be some place off the coast of Japan, right in the middle of monsoon season. At sea level, a bad day is a civil emergency: You evacuate cities; raze shorelines; swallow ships – Godzilla hightails it to Korea. But I've slipped untouched beneath that chaos – gone deep-sea diving: Yeah,… Continue reading My favourite tsunami
I can't believe this moment has arrived, and that I've seized it, and that you have too, and here we are, both seizing it. You're the most perfect thing, the most perfect fucking thing – my heart is in my mouth. Here, take it from me with yours. Let me trace the angles of your… Continue reading Young love
Sometimes I feel like a cat who's just dragged in a fresh kill – rat guts strewn all through the carpet – an offering to you, and you are screaming – you are chasing me out of the house, and I am quite concerned that you're feeling upset, so I resolve to find you another… Continue reading How could I apologise for this? (AKA It’s cool to be a cat)
My feelings for you sound like Mark Kozelek's vocals at a Sun Kil Moon concert: The same atonal thing repeated, over and over again, with whatever rhythm works to keep the groove going, til I can think of something really fucking sad really fucking sad really fucking sad really fucking sad really fucking sad really… Continue reading My feelings for you sound like Mark Kozelek’s vocals at a Sun Kil Moon concert
The heat hurts hard, beating down on farang faces - fat, frowning flesh, fired up for fevered fucking. Delirious dogging down dry, dirty streets - assessing every ass like they're browsing butcher's briskets and pork pieces. Thais take their places - play positions - facing fate like fighting monks, but they fight face down, ass… Continue reading Farang nightmares
Outside Families rent their children The streets are covered in filth Inside Astronauts speak with telepathic dragons The water is blue This is life for a farang – with money to feed ten Thai families – reading sci-fi by the pool served drinks by Pattaya boys not selling their bodies Outside