A Dark Thought in a Green Shade Somewhere in the newly planted earth, a god sits at his bench, creating and curating each little...

Discourse in the Garden: A Short Drama An olive grove. Night. The sound of approaching footsteps. SOCRATES: ‘Swounds! A dark day for strong flowers and cool breezes. Can you deny it? PLATO: Are you spreching to me, sir? SOCRATES: I am, almost certainly. [Sits beside PLATO.] Call me I am. PLATO: Ha! Welcome. Call me anything you like. I’ll deny it later. SOCRATES: Ho! I’ve only lived the one life. Where next? Should I go on? PLATO: Always going on. Even when you’re half dead.

A Marvellous Garden the garden is a luscious lover crushed wine on lips the dark-eyed junco's throat full of whistles and trills the walnut tree’s throbbing roots and flower-tipped branches spice beds the scent of jasmine on stone   ‘it is the purest of humane pleasures’ the windchime’s tinkling brass   the honeyed bees’ amaranthine drone amorous perfumes in a bloodhot sun venus fly waspish purring hum avian shrieks carnivorous  triffids dart out as you pass, a lashing sting

When He planted in the earth a tree of life, a tree of death (the latter with a curse of woe) did God say that this was good? And when He...

the air is raspberry sweet it swarms with wings

On the seventh day God came down, dug earth deep and wide, buried Adam in the belly of the planet. From his grave came flowers and fruit trees, valleys and hills, rivers and seas, fish, lizards, birds, mammals, humans – lots and lots of humans. Seven million years later Adam awoke from a nightmare of holocausts, rape rooms, train wrecks, the rape of Eve. But being stuck in the belly of the world he could nothing but grind his jaw and weep for eternity to end.