The year his grandfather gave him the fifty cent piece the shamble leg man found a tortoise shell latticed into the sewer grating behind the aqueduct. It was emerald green with flecks of opal and brittle round the edges where it had run up against the wire fencing. He kicked it with his boot, releasing a hackling of flies that have woven themselves into the soft underbelly. He kicked it again and the flies scattered, a coil of intestine snaking round his ankles.
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About Me
- Stephen Rowntree
- "Poetry is the short-circuiting of meaning between words, the impetuous regeneration of primordial myth". Bruno Schulz
Blog Archive
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2007
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March
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- The Great Maternal Chasm
- Caudal Pins
- Proper Footwear and Cheese
- Yvonne Petkus
- Jaroslav Hasek, The Good Soldier Svejk
- Anthropomorphic Savant
- Delousing the Muse
- Husserl and the Walsers
- Octavio Paz Lozano (March 31, 1914 – April 19, 1998)
- The Romanian Busboy
- Prohibitions and Latex
- Black Kitchen Shoes
- Trumpeting Ass
- Lucien
- Fen and Slough
- The Vanity of Thought
- Curbstone Slush
- Dogsbody Toting an Ashplant
- Tight Skeins
- An Early March
- Burgees Curative
- Fetal Clinch
- Temperance and Prohibition
- Clabber and Free-base
- Blackmail Here on Earth
- Blotches and Flay
- The Two Berbers
- Tortoise Shell
- Nana Mossoro
- The Surplus Value of Rainwater
- Sty-gate
- Bailing Wire
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March
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- Taking the Brim _ Took the Broom
- The Blog of Amanda Earl
- The Brazen Head: A James Joyce Public House
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