A white room.
The sound and blur of a door closing, slamming shut.
Soft footsteps in the hall.
Wake up.
A bare bulb swinging from the ceiling shines.
Sunlight with artificial light blends strange.
No shadows in the hothouse room. Late summer, afternoon.
Gauze curtains floating in the breeze.
(Sleep, sleeper, sleep . . . there is no end to this.)
Wake up!
Dream movements [...]
Archive for the ‘Head Ballet’ Category
Ghost Story 1973–89
Posted in Head Ballet on August 18, 2007 | Leave a Comment »
Basically a late night guitar solo
Posted in Head Ballet on July 30, 2007 | Leave a Comment »
Embodying the modernist myth of sorrow suffered into art, he sank through quicksand storms of shame into the dark. Desire is a lonely cry: sand through the fingers, gritted teeth. Denial is a golden wall. Behind this wall a garden grows, with a fountain in it, and a tree. Upon a high branch, claws sunk [...]
The Footloose Man
Posted in Head Ballet on July 22, 2007 | Leave a Comment »
They call him Roger the Dodger because everybody else does. He works at some hush hush job in one of those departments in Canberra that the Mason’s control and use for their own unstated ends. I’m a Catholic myself. We control our own departments, as you know, so that’s okay. And anyway, Roger’s a mate.
Well, [...]
Father Bob in Hell
Posted in Head Ballet on July 17, 2007 | Leave a Comment »
— Hello, Bob.
— What? Who said that?
— Can you hear me there, Bob? Can you make out what I’m saying?
— Yes. Yes I can. I can hear you quite clearly.
— That’s good.
— But I can’t see you.
— That’s because I’m invisible.
— Oh, right.
— I’m just a voice. I don’t have a body.
— Oh.
— Dum de [...]
Goodbye, Mr. Chips
Posted in Head Ballet on January 10, 2007 | Leave a Comment »
He said, “I want your attention,” and prodded her in the chest. The girl lost her footing and fell backwards. Her head slammed hard against the boards. The man was leaning over her and whispering, so only she could hear, “I want your attention, I want your attention.” Nobody else in the room did or [...]
Zen Squad
Posted in Head Ballet on December 20, 2006 | Leave a Comment »
They let the killer come to them.
When he arrives . . . they’re there.
One chops wood. One carries water. One draws almost perfect circles freehand on white butcher’s paper. One rakes gravel. One arranges flowers. They are the calmest police possible, and refuse to theorise.
(Actually, they’re all mentally ill. The crimes that they investigate take [...]
It’s a Glass-Half-Empty World
Posted in Head Ballet on December 19, 2006 | Leave a Comment »
“Larkfarkle Darkmarkener?” he asked again, more urgently.
And for a third time I said, “What?”
We were both yelling by now. The line was awful. I had no idea what he was saying. Was it some kind of code? Who was he?
Then he rang off, with what sounded like a shriek.
I sat staring blankly at the phone [...]
Dear Job Search Diary
Posted in Head Ballet on December 15, 2006 | Leave a Comment »
Last night I had this amazing dream about a kabbalist who was actually me in an earlier incarnation. He was asleep too. We were both astral travelling, I suppose. Anyway, we were talking to this incredibly beautiful but highly strung young woman. She was cool, I mean, she was really nice. But she thought we [...]
One night in Stockholm
Posted in Head Ballet on December 14, 2006 | Leave a Comment »
“My name is Luke Turmoil,” the face in the mirror growls, slurring the words somewhat in the manner of a stroke victim. “And I am a world renowned scientist.”
The light in the hotel en suite is cold and dead. His head is swimming. Tension twists the great man’s slightly seedy aristocratic features into an unfathomably [...]
Sun Bong
Posted in Head Ballet on December 11, 2006 | 1 Comment »
You could be walking along, as the day cools off and the air grows dim, lost in whatever pointless rubbish you’re thinking. Good thoughts, bad thoughts, or indifferent; memories, daydreams, what’s the difference? It’s all fantasy and fiction. Then you lift your eyes and stop.
The western sky has caught on fire as the sun goes [...]
