I looked for you there
Amongst the broken pieces
My fingers bleed still
A poem
Poetry isn’t something I have any particular interest in or aspirations for. I think Bo Burnham’s Egghead poems might be the only poetry I’ve deliberately read in decades. That said, this ‘haiku’ (?) woke me up last night and I jotted it down ‘as is’.
New knowledge
Reading other blogs is fun and informative. Yesterday I learned that the things I have been calling ‘bites’ of fiction are generally called Flash Fiction. I might change, but I do like the more visceral imagery of a bite (chomp chomp).
Photo shoot(ing)
I uploaded a profile picture yesterday, me and a shotgun, taken on a shooting range. I’m hoping that people will take this as a tongue-in-cheek homage to Hemingway, and not as an endorsement of any particular NRA viewpoint. I’m Australian, so this may well be the last gun I ever handle, and that’s fine with me.
As always, your comments are welcome. I’m particularly interested on thoughts of the poetry, as it’s so far outside my norm.
Cheers
KT
Uncertain Tales 