Archive for April, 2014

When Moses came home from Cripple Creek, gee whiz, he was in some spankin’ new kicks. We all thought he’d died somewhere down south, but he said he’d made his fortune out there in Colorado. Well, he came in flippin’ silver simoleons left and right. Been home less than a day and he plunked down for a new kitchen range for Mama and told her to fix us up for a Sunday feast. Told her to go see Mister Jones, said to tell him Moses sent her, he’d fix us up with somethin’ nice.

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‘Twas ne’er a fight Young Bartram should ever ha’ got his-self into.
But there he found his-self.
I ne’er could tell how it didn’t seem a reasonable bargain to the man, bein’ in his position n’ all.
Myself? Why, I take that money an’ go an’ run. Tha’s wha’ I’da gone done. Note been no chancer I’da been ‘round fo’ no proposition ah-no beatin’ inner firs’ place! Yes, sir!

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Sonoran

Unyoked from the stretcher, Hermano took off his blue Goodyear cap. The cap had made a red indentation across his forehead. Insect sounds sizzled and buzzed around him, but apart from the sound of his movements – boots scraping in the dirt and the sound of fabric rubbing on fabric – and those of the insects, all was quiet and calm. But this wasn’t a place to rest. Not here. Not yet.                                          (more…)

Baby praying mantis

Posted: April 20, 2014 in Photographs, Travel writing

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Kelapa mudah and kopi susu by the beach at Taman Yokima in Cipatujah, West Java.
Just look out for the baby praying mantis. They are everywhere!

On a side note, clearly I’ve spent too long in the city. The roar of the surf just sounds like distant traffic noise.

The view down to smoggy Bandung during my jog this morning.

The view down to smoggy Bandung during my jog this morning.

After car after bus after car after truck. After this my lungs will be so fucked up!

In the garage
~
Around the warn-felt oasis of a pool table, fluorescent-lit greensward in a terracotta-tiled, garage-cum-billiard-room, we were monkeys in the time of chimpanzees, reflections faffing about in the tarnished mirror of an abandoned, empty art deco cocktail cabinet.

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Takin it easy
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Humming past fields of forever, yellow stubble and distant stands of tamarack and spruce, under an impossible sky, slumping hay-bales marking invisible grids across the prairie rise and fall. Mighty Sol stabs crepuscular blades of light through waves of muddy stratocumulus, through an insect-pocked and road-grimed windshield, and the yellow lines down the middle of the grey asphalt conveyor-belt slide away beneath them, a ribbon of morse-code nonsense across the countryside.
“Anytime at all, if you want to.”

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Coffee cup on grey background (seen from above)

“There’s writin’ on the wall,” he said, swallowing away the waxy residue of tacky black coffee, before adding, “Sayin’ God bless ya, honey.”
He was serious. She misread his gravity, thought it was sarcasm.
Breathing out a thin cloud of tobacco smoke she said, “Well, that’s just the way it should be.” Thinking of better times, all long gone now, she brought the cigarette back up to her mouth, hesitated, and went on, “But, ya know, it’s hard to make the good things last.”
He wasn’t on the same page. Not even the same story. She sucked deeply on the filtered cigarette and, as his cup clinked on to the saucer in front of him, he said, “It’s the way it’s meant to be.”
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Sabuga

Posted: April 7, 2014 in Photographs

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Sabuga: I’ve come to know just about every pebble, every frayed bit of line-marking tape, every tree, and every dragonfly around this track.

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‘Gedung Sipil ITB’ by Shane Bolitho, 6 April 2014