Explorations of surrealism as travel between worlds


Did you know the hunks? I was never a hunk, but I learned to love the word. Hunk. It feels chunky. I love chunky. I like my chocolate chunky, and also my peanut butter. A hunk of hair is also good. And the hunks of the universe. There are so


When we immigrated to America, in the 1980s, we started off in a trailer park, in Vallejo, California. We sat on a sofa and watched the telly. There were so many adverts. We weren’t used to the adverts. There were TV Dinners, and for many weeks we watched the meat


In the 1980s I lived in Coffee Hall, in Milton Keynes. Near coffee Hall, there was Bean Hill. The underpass between Beanhill and Coffee Hall was painted with a Wizard of Oz theme. Magic! I went to Copperfield Middle School, now closed since 31/3/2004, and there was a special teacher:

Sacred Spring

In 2016, I received a commission from the Austrian Cultural Forum in London to write something in the spirit of the Vienna Secessionists. I was super happy to have one of the poems from the commission in the faith issue of Tin House Magazine. The poem, “Sacred Spring,” was also


The crowd is dangerous, and also liberating, but mostly dangerous. A mob. When you’re younger: peer pressure. When I lived in Milton Keynes, Coffee Hall housing estate, there was a place for playing football, next to the playground. I showed up in my red Liverpool kit. Liverpool was everything, especially


When I moved to Madrid, in the summer of 2016, I learned Spanish expressions. One of them was “a bug in the house.” It was also my first year with the famous Spanish lottery. Lower middle class living per always, the lottery was tempting. & we played, like so many


I used to deal with the body and blood of Jesus, on a Sunday, kneeling over it. I was mostly an introverted quiet kid and Jerry was stud muffin. I lifted weights in gym, but only my legs got bigger. Jerry had rock hard cleavage. His hair was perfect. He

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