The Sale of

usual grounding pathologies
shrunk aesthetic – another time aped
the pounding of sheet metal to rough
unpolished tokens to line rooftops a
landscape gloomed by the spitting rain – unstable reflections
on the darkened window as the gargoyle garbles rain water
    onto those below – boxed tower – a summit that fails to taper
it has no floodlights to pick  clarify identify detail least
grey stone imposing dull sonorous impressions
even in photographs
the push of the blanch blocks is firm near unmoving
not the sort for the holiday snap it takes its absence
the stern defiant lips of a speaker “See brother the light, and the light”
    the skull-cap an activist pauses proud
    pouts in excelsis his traipse affirmed
true there are no floodlights to pick out the hollowing shadows
that gloom then fresh depths announced only at twilight – a dawn light
is too sharp a sweep even in summer all must take place in twilight the         sudden calling of spaces    

Holding a place

Good old bldg.blog - it is such a rich collection of the weird and wonderful, intelligently written and with a broad scope. I sometimes wish I could just swallow whole chunks of it and store them up to digest whenever I'm feeling despondent or a little fed up with work. I've learned all manner of things, and I was going to link a few up here - but to be honest, every time I dig to find an old article I stumble across something else. Just go, click at random and let your mind wander...

In other news, there's work afoot here and here. Both seem to be getting pretty positive responses. The numberstations work is for Futureradio - and I would take the time to talk a bit more about what we're doing, but it's very much an ongoing process so I may hold off on the grand reveal at the moment.

What other thoughts? Nothing major - no sudden outrages or laments to share. But perhaps that is a good sign.