Ageless Age with Edge

Ageless Age with Edge
welcomes you twofold

Saturday 31 October 2009

Writing for Unhallow Masses Day (Halloween 2009)

Myself, I'm with a sore throat, but have been cooking lovely things for me:

Hot stew of coconut milk, portabellas, pablanos, Indian lime [lime,fenugreek,mustard,red chili,turmeric], clams, fried mackerel[red chili,honey], garlic, leeks, watercress and redwine.

It was so good, I had a gustatory climax.

It's a good antiviral. People should enjoy the flu more often. The best part is how I get to terrify species of the even-toed ungulate Order. A few have hurtled off cliffs.

My virus added to the flavour. I've been terrifying herds of proactive healthy swine who refuse all contact with each other, always wash their 'hooves', and go grunting wallowing in a long queue to hog some ditch-resort vaccine.

I made a phone die with my bad breath. Distance btw mouth and phone: ca. 900 miles.

Sunday 25 October 2009

Sun upon Sea-Green

After a walk, I saw Ranfax briefly. I was dangling from chinup bars and she tickled me from behind. Wanted to take her and hug her like mad. In the evening after work, she finger-stalked my side where I sat on a chair near M.G. I caught her hand. With a squeal, she pulled back heavily and I held my grasp. The entire chair moved, rotating. She slid in a circle, her nightgown slipping on the smoothe floor. She rolled round in front of the chair, her back to me. I tickled her sides. She flung her legs up in the air and wriggled wildly. The golden sheaves of her hair fell undulating across my lap, silkily splayed out and scented with bath salts. Her sunlocks crowned a satiny green blouse: Bright gold and the green silk flashing. Her cheeks flushed like red wine filling a glass. Her eyes were as blue as hyacinth, her lips crimson. M.G. kindly condescended, fatherly like. I kept silent. Couldn't speak. She shied off as he blustered: "What a bread-baker, what precocious intellect (for her age). She's a good kid." I looked at her squarely: "I never thought of her as a kid." 13 March 1996

Your blush-hue makes me fill wine-red to the top like a poured glass. The venison-rich kineflesh - life-fattening, grassfed - makes our cheeks flush red. My skin stains crimson in the sea-wind. My nose fills with reek of lambwool, saltwind, grass-cud, cow udder, kine-dung, heather and whin on the wind. Wombsap and springseed, autumn sweet and winter salt, tears and laughs. Deerherding storm girls roll wind-high over sea-cliffs. Willow-wallow-haired woman, winsome, toothsome, resinous, sustaining. Sun-locks over greensod. 24-25 October 2009