Category Archives: Stuart France and Sue Vincent

Chanteater…

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It was probably foolish, I know…

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But I took a liking to this ‘little lady’.

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Who, if the board is correct, could have been supporting the capstone’s weight  for over six thousand years.

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Which is some feat, as you can probably see…

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We call it stone technology and we have been experimenting with sound in a number of these ‘chambers’.

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I was expecting the chant to have little vibratory effect because the tomb was clearly, in part, wrecked.

What I wasn’t expecting was for both the sound and the breath to be sucked from my being, like something or someone was thirsty…

Like I said, foolish, but maybe it also served…

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Edge of Weird…

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“Feels like we’re being invited into the earth.”

“It’s been coming for awhile.”

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“Odin’s Mine and Speedwell Cavern, you mean?”

“I think they were different.”

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“I’d be inclined to agree.”

“So would he.”

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Moons of Mountain Ana: Never…

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“So when do I get that drink you owe me?”

“Soon…”

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The warmth of silence as she threads the eye of a needle.

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“I like your owl.”

“It’s Minoan.”

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It would have been a privilege

to spend

the rest of my days

here, forever.

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Never.

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It never was

so good,

again… ?

Moons of Mountain Ana: Nestle…

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Gemma’s warmth as

she links my arm and

the world stops screaming…

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You are an island dark with life;

A swan-hatched dream, taking flight;

A blue-shot cormorant, nestled in night.

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Gemma’s warmth when she talks about

the sort of house she wants, her bottom

drawer, and the colour of christmas decorations.

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The warmth of a smile

 when I look at her crotch:

 earth / urge / air / care.

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O’ for another storm stressed day,

when the sky spoke and

our world yielded… to rain.

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‘I could have run much faster.’

‘You should have been here over Christmas.’

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Of all the things

I’ll never get chance to do…

Moons of Mountain Ana: Vamp…

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Becky is beautiful

but kind and cruel,

in turns.

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Her eyes flash when I call her a vamp,

and when I bad mouth her boyfriend.

 “You make me laugh,” she says, “can I kill you?”

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She has the hair of a teenage friend,

the eyes of an old love, the profile and

features of a desirable aunt, the body of

the goddess Parvati, and a smile like paradise.

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Her mischief resembles that of a childhood adversary.

 “I’m going to turn you into an ass,” she smiles.

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 Her hoot face is reserved for her most cunning lies,

 “I thought I’d see you there,” yet she still

succeeds in soothing the situation.

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 ‘Does she really sleep with him?’

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“I’m sorry about your Grandad,”

she says, like Mum at such times.

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Warmth floods the room…

 

Moons of Mountain Ana: Rituals..

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Regardless of content, our most intense moments have a habit of assuming ritual clarity.

Together, the figures our characters cut are colourful, and bright, and amusing;

the wheel-spinning white car which your mother read about in my story, or Roma’s amber earrings, Louise and Paula, uncharacteristically, dressed in black.

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Gemma,

who plays football,

and for whom love… is too painful?

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Did I really say that?

She wants to travel, or that?

‘Me too! ’/ ‘that’s how I drink’/ ‘I do.

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If only it,

and you,

and I

were true!

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Even Sandra

mimicking my mudra,

and Mimi’s mint.