http://slow.writerscafe.org/Wilemorris The original writings of author Terpsichore en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776116748 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 The first rains came,A puddle shimmered,casting new ripplesacross the rainbowed surface.It washed the small feetof both mouse & sparrow,the larger of rabbit & squirrel.Done with weeping, clouds drifted,breaking the veil of haze overhead,the sun's candle finallyburning brighter than the fires.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wilemorris/2147701/ (General notes on the sensitive operation of sewage tankers)One measure of culture and civilisation is the proximity of a species to its excrement. Taking this as true, a cruel irony is hidden therein, in that some of the most advanced and successful of our number remain rather closer to theirs than.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wilemorris/1811919/  Sin is, or sin isn't, she thinks,icy with detachmentas she squeezes the trigger.Payback for all the damaged years.The afternoon is bright,the room is silent.Mirrors magnify and thoughts assemble,as cloistered in serene order, she drifts away on a draught of simple murder.First s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wilemorris/1803251/ In rain I walk and feed.My one foot sliding, gliding.I move slowly, ghostlike.Floating edges grazing the groundlike the skirts of a settling hovercraft.I am burdened by encapsulating shellwhich I utilise with mysterious ease.Drawing back and recoilingfrom sharp stones, from grass spears.My body is p.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wilemorris/1774615/ Here they come again through the strobe shadow rain,hunched between Popeye houses,the Russian closet poets wearing thin disguises,playing with verbal vegetables,the worst tillers of the voiced soilsince the days of Cain.And the oilskinned ants arrived todayand it's rained all blasted weekand the lot.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wilemorris/1729801/ An exercise in honour to a different time http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wilemorris/1720601/ The neon sign welcomesmy Farang cash bag skin.The king's flag is neatly foldedand the no-name dog in the corneryawns in indifference as the air gives off the scent of jasmine smoke, as if to say, here comes another one.I observe silently. Watching the slim brown bar girls acting out&nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wilemorris/1661095/ Limp she lies against the ploughed soilA still life portrait in pain and pellet,with flicked and dimpled fur,spread and wind raped.A dreamer's warmth leaks down, incontinent. A dropping exudes and steams gently, her eyes dull, become distant. Birth and burrow, flint and furroware i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wilemorris/1654143/ She is very young, no more than four, maybe five. Her face a delicate pale oval surrounded by wild curly hair, somewhere between blonde and brown, the color they call mouse. As pretty as a picture, a poppet with rosebud lips and large almond eyes. The early morning sun has raised a sprinkling of fre.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wilemorris/1649796/  7pm, the day cools, the eveninghots up as shadows play hopscotchon scorched asphalt.No peeling rubber, just bumper to bumper madness and sputtering engines,and the flash of Lord Ganeshbobbing from rearview mirrors,in the seething current of 21st century India,one more swirling pinpointin .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wilemorris/1601132/ She lives in Birmingham, this single mothernamed Suzy Chan, waiting for a bus,an insignificant life, woven into the concrete conurbation, in this post-modernist time, and the bus is late, and she is resigned at the stop, concentrating on a Stephen King novel,( the one about the evil c.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wilemorris/1549124/