Auto Da Fé
As he was passing by the cathedral, warm, uncanny sounds reached his ears. He would have sung in the same key, had his voice, like his mood, been at his command. Suddenly a spot of dirt fell on him. Curious and startled, he looked up at the buttresses. Pigeons preened themselves and cooed, none was to blame for the dirt. For twenty years he had not heard these sounds; every day on his morning walk he passed this spot. Yet cooing was well known to him out of books. ‘Quite so!’ he said softly, and nodded as he always did when he found reality bearing out the printed original.
And then:
- Desolation Angels Because whether you murder or not, that’s the trouble, it makes no difference in the maddening void which doesn’t care...
- Marcovaldo The heavy man pointed the tip of his cane towards the rows of lights that were coming on, down below....
- Kleinzeit Excuse me, said the moon. I’ll just put the kettle on. Kleinzeit nodded. The day knocked three times at his...
- Mr Rinyo-Clacton’s Offer Post addressed to Jonathan Fitch came through my letter-box, and that was who I was. I had a National Insurance...
- La Bonne Chanson The morning sun serenely warms and gilds The rye and corn still damp in dewy fields, The sky has kept...
- The Third Policeman ‘See that you regularize your irregularity instantaneously,’ he called as his good-bye, ‘and set right your irrectitude and put the...
Word forest
thievery
poverty
ghosts
the confession of a white widowed male
love
richard brautigan
rye
childhood
conservative
repressed
italo calvino
a bitch in time shaved mine
bulldozer
luigi serafini
compass
flotsam
fup duck
naked
nosy
franck pavloff
brrm! brrm!
dirt
fennesz
drums
h l mencken
openid
bible
tedious
nationalism
cheap hotels
jim dodge
franz kafka
chuckwagon
walt whitman
business
hysteria siberiana
people know
the outsider
america
pale
writer
vimeo
cave
albert camus
beck record club
movie
black man
windows
energy
bike
discrimination
home taping
beastie boys
tokyo
w3c
barcelona
gouache
workers
where eagles dare
dwarf knight
the golden bough
walk the streets at night
night
obstinacy
kick
western governments
fear
leela's friend
god
747
cold turkey
ecology
soft-boiled egg
elevator
drugs
afrikaner
wordpress mu
consumer in fire
the fiery furnaces
the sailor who feel from grace with the sea
married
yo-yo
new experiences
straw
peter plate
thought
why we're losing the war on terror
tightly furled
riichi
a power government cannot suppress
trying to kill me
hardcore
dream
papua
alphabet
oauth
zoo
loss
suarez miranda
guns
wildcarrot leaf
farmers
jesus christ
injustice
energy crisis
insecurities
we have not spoken yet
whisper
fashion
omni
now voyager
army
debris
sonic youth
stock market
bicycles
living in the now
goethe
australia
college





