after the capture comes this watershed ‘though there are no fluid feelings or sylvan streams just a slither of liquefaction in red rage on hard
Category: poetry project: 10 bulls
4. Catching the bull
As certainties slip from the grasp cloudland lifts its top and cuckoos flee across contours, through half-closed lids the eyes compose deft as any painter
3. First sight of the bull
Sun blots the landscape soaking the faraway view to a faded wash eyes forced to a squint, slit-eyed I watch reeds and trees stand up against the
2. Discovering the Footprints
How many signs does a doubtful seeker need to know? for sure the bull is there – right there foolproof footprints everywhere and just the
1. In search of the bull
To begin with it’s a light-hearted venture the way informal as an animal track a definitive linear trampling sets me wondering about wandering pondering nothing
