Pipe Dreams

Briar wood grows and forms achingly slowly. It forms beneath the ground in bulbous swell, somewhere between tree trunk and roots. Only once heated, rested and then fire-hardened once again can it be turned cunningly into a pipe bowl. Ready to be smoked. I now know all of these things, and am fascinated by them. … More Pipe Dreams

Never be Forgot

The whole city a coral reef. Resplendent with phosphorescence. Beautiful, really. Punctuated with staccato blasts. Syncopated echoes to every flash. Yet so fragmented. Too many, many small, pigeon holed shouls. Hardly an ecology. Or society. My God, united, all displays could make a blaze fit for a King. Whole streets pooling ┬áknives and Fawkes to … More Never be Forgot