By Richard Carl Mather The moon appeared to float on a skein of black water and a wind sang a high pitch B, 246.94 Hertz. And...

The North Is by Richard Carl Mather Rain strikes terraces stacked in brown brick   And wind blows through the underpass.     Two...

On the other side of the optic glass, Ishmael's albino whale of the sky Leprously blemished, ghastly white.

Coldly satanic is the phantom moon whose hollow shell is the alien body of a god who hatched and died too early.