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II

who is savedhas not presumedthey are luckywho is damnedhas not despairednot despairedI shall talk to youand my wordspenetratethe delicate traceryof your snowflakeheart’s venoussystem. In thisway, I am anintimate.This life scales.A voice isanimatewithinthe voice, a voicewithin and withinanother, as crystal iceextends dominionand despairsettles in generalover the land, winter.
Simon Taylor 16 Jan 2016

I

does it lastthe night a deepa deep fissuresuspended daylike ashlighthalfthe half toltingbelief-riddendown the graingrey of a twilit beach-headwhat measureround sleepsleep curledin sleep’s organslungsbrain aheart likesonhow slowcommitthe sky-rentof severed furlingloose fallsdream-likemouthfingershairhollow tonguebloodcan we then cascadewithoutfallingwithout withoutcommit the questionshe is an accountantbare legs in summertimebut noshadow of
Simon Taylor 14 Jan 2016

thanks, Stephen, for pointing to Ron Eglash’s work unfolding African fractals

Simon Taylor 13 Jan 2016

blackstar arrives vinylly

Simon Taylor 13 Jan 2016

R.I.P.–a public catafalque, as requested–David Bowie 8 January 1947 – 10 January 2016

Simon Taylor 13 Jan 2016

this is the cover image of Diana Fuss’s Dying Modern: a meditation on elegy

perhaps this belongs in her meditation
Simon Taylor 11 Jan 2016

“The idea that therapeutic help can come from an app, in general, has been met with some skepticism” e-therapy for social media dependency

“social media [is] part of the person” – from here … where we catch a fleeting glimpse of something glistening flesh-wet below the wire. – Sebastião Salgado
Simon Taylor 09 Jan 2016

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