In My New England Home

By John Grey Damn. I’d have to really hate myself to believe she’s never coming back to me. Look in the mirror and throw up. Smash in my skull with a hammer. But I’m merely waiting here, as stoic as Zeno of Citium.   So she left without a word. And I find nothing to console myself… Continue reading In My New England Home


By John Grey I use that horrible   coward’s word “interesting”  to describe your painting.  Bad move.  Now I have to find a way  to fire myself as art critic,  be hired on as lover.    To be honest,   the canvas looks like   an unholy mess   of blotches and streaks,  scrawl and scribble.  But that’s an… Continue reading Interesting

Ἄποφις II

The wreckage of the god-ship lies On Bakhu's shores for clever eyes With reforged fragments of the arc The architects, athwart the dark The Great Cat dead—Set is slain The Serpent twines about The Skein Holo crumbles—the pillars crack Warship moves—His demense to sack The Eater of Souls can never die But shackled shall eternal… Continue reading Ἄποφις II


Watch the clash, the battle won If lost, will never rise the sun Moves the barge, across the land Mighty Set with spear in hand Guardian of the gilded lord Horizon coils with scales to ford Comes the Serpent, from The Nile Sixteen yards—sardonic wile Cut and torn and gealdor bound He writhes and heaves… Continue reading Ἄποφις