Tattoos and piercings are lodged in the weave of her becoming
A pale flame that undulates from my hips towards the ceiling
She feels like mine but she is held within the darkness’ grip
Its heavy fingers are printed in the slats between her ribs Continue reading
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Perhaps this is a function of modern life; every time Peterson posts a lecture, it is watched by millions of people. This is a highly intelligent, eccentric and (by his own admission) fragile person. It is foolish to think this kind of attention would not be difficult to adjust to, and put a profound strain on his character. Continue reading
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A friend of mine sent me a critique of Jordan Peterson yesterday in response to my encouragement of her to give him a listen. Originally published in an American journal called The Star, it’s the first decent criticism of Peterson I have read. Continue reading
You rang me like a bell.
I lie on my back with the night pressed against my face
And the images resonate one after another –
Lying propped on your elbow in the eddies of the sheets
Looking at your bare ass as you’re bent over packing your suitcase
Prowling the footpath beside me with high-heeled precision
Reaching up inside you toward the depths of where you dream
If Hollywood filmmaking is spellcasting, A Star Is Born seduced me absolutely. Continue reading
After taking a regular interest in his podcasts, I’m finding it hard to tell. Continue reading
There is something confronting about the disembodied voice of a stranger on the telephone, particularly when it’s someone you may fall in love with. Continue reading
