whence guerrilla moon?This is a web log about waking up too early, before the sun has a chance to rise, before the chorus of birdsong can begin, before the graveyard shift workers have a chance to hit the sack. It is about discovering that the whole house, no, the entire neighbourhood, is exceptionally quiet. And when you step out of the house in a rare effort to buy that McDonald’s breakfast you were yearning for the previous night you realise that it is one of those rare moments - like those in the dramas, where the nine planets (depending on whether you still believe in Pluto) are in perfect alignment - there are no cars on the road and this Singapore we&#whence guerrilla moon?
IntransitiveAs the music recedes so do my feelings Rush like a waterfall down to its snowy depths Plunging deep deep inside the unconscious The last shred of my humanity plundered, fluttering in the lonely wind Like the last man standing on a battlefield won, a Pyrrhic victoryIntransitive
Circling the skies above a hawk spies In search of its food to delay starvation perhaps Or to feed its young in that eyrie way up high As it is always, to deny something, to allow something By the force of our seeking
Searching I am too for that ultimate bliss Like the hawk in the sky, eyes scan the wor
never grow up.I have a monster living underneath my bed.never grow up.
He’s made up of burnt frog skin, white-red cobweb veined eyes and a collection of missing pebble teeth. Sometimes we play scrabble.
(The first time he was just a mechanical hum beneath the bowing wooden planks, he was just a faint smell of green and he was just a hot cloud of fog around my lips. It’s the wind, it’s the wind, I breathed. Then he breathed back, heavy and loud and monster-like; AM NOT.)
He always spoke in capitals; MONSTERS ARE MUCH TOO SCARY FOR LOWER-CASED LETTERS, he informed me one night under pink covers. I shined the flashlight
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I want to be new, be changed, and love.
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Let's make sex!
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