the Blue City

“What god do you pursue in cities? Do you see him, briefly, from inside a moving tram? There – is that his name, those spray paint letters? Is that him, broken, crazy, speaking tongues? There, is that him? Can you demonstrate? Can you mouth or call his unsaid...

This is Red Fox Country

Some days are like Cold War spy thrillers. You find yourself peeking down corridors out of the corners of your eyes. Every habits seems like dangerous patterns, a weakness for banality to exploit. Constellations of predictable coordinates grid-line your everyday life,...