Archive for the Dream plays category

03:13 and we are finite

I don’t want to be here. Not tonight. Not tomor­row. Not a year from now. I want to be a quickly fad­ing memory. I want to be a foot­note.

02:11 and the tap drips

As I lie here, I can hear every con­ver­sa­tion, each one drown­ing out the con­ver­sa­tions I can’t hear, the con­ver­sa­tions I’m for­get­ting, the con­ver­sa­tions I’ve already… what? No? Gone. Com­pletely gone. I hold my own hand and pre­tend. You are wip­ing me away, puri­fy­ing the wound. I am wip­ing myself away, because I want to […]

02:12 and two hours thirty-six minutes early

You had it right, Sarah. Even with the ever-present rum­bling noise of a city that nev­er sleeps drift­ing in through my rot­ting win­dow, there’s a point in every sleep­less night when exist­ence becomes bar­ren. When you won­der why you’re still here. When you have to do some­thing to occupy your­self, because if you don’t you […]

11:42 and coiled in hatred

Last night: dreams, vivid dreams, almost tan­gible in their cuts and bruises, their wounds and blood­i­ness. Dreams of such awful, sick­en­ing viol­ence. Per­pet­rated by me. Com­mit­ted by my own hands, my own sick mind, my own vile intent. I know they’re only dreams. I know I could nev­er be viol­ent. I know that I abhor […]

02:01 and fluently talking to the void

I meant to go to sleep four hours ago. Get a prop­er night’s rest after a near unbroken 11-hour work­ing day. Instead, I’ve been lying here seek­ing solace in the voices of people passing in the street five floors below, while think­ing about the con­ver­sa­tions I wished I’d had and now nev­er will, the con­ver­sa­tions […]


I’ll stifle your. I’ll embroid­er your. I’ll stab your. I’ll take your. These aren’t, this isn’t, you aren’t a curi­ous mind. I’m against this argu­ment and I don’t have its reins any­more. I’m against this wall and I can’t feel my back any­more. You say brick­work, I say stone. You say win­dow, I say cel­lar. […]

Sprain and pinch

If you are a mangled organ, pierced, then this is how you dance. Twist over, unravel and bleed through my shirt. I have worn red for such a spe­cial occa­sion (I remembered to put on clean under­wear, too). I have sixty thou­sand miles of ves­sels to spread among the popu­lace in the hope that they […]

Three prayers, then silence

We pray to the west shore. This being — your god, we don’t know his name — this being eats through the sand and gets between your toes. He wraps him­self in skin foil, in body-bags and debris. He does not accept pray­ers before sun­rise, no mat­ter how earn­est or plead­ing they might be. He […]

Kill all angels

Ima­gin­a­tion is a whore. A filthy yet fickle whore. Comes to me and for me, spread-eagled and pout­ing, offer­ing up everything on a wooden plat­ter. Then she with­draws, closes up and turns away. A frost des­cends. She’s ice cold, white and drained. yes i know you want fuck­ing angels and more fuck­ing angels and all […]

Face the wall

That’s him. Him. That’s who I want to be today. Him. The one who could punch your lights out, fuck you up and fuck you over. And then fuck right off. Hate on his right knuckles, hate on his left. Bile in his heart, with his blood run­ning pois­on and his mind run­ning on empty. […]

Into the white

They’re wait­ing. As I reside in the muffled still­ness of an all too rare sun-dappled after­noon and silently mouth my pray­er for peace, I can sense their pres­ence out­side the door. Wait­ing for me. A snak­ing line of three hun­dred and thirty-three fig­ures queues along the dark cor­ridor, round the bend and down the stairs. […]

Moonshot #1

I have hatched a plot whereby we can at last get our slip­pery, sweaty hands on our prey. I know you don’t believe it’s pos­sible, but it is. It truly is. It has to be, because these sun­lit, cloud-dashed days of ifs and buts are grow­ing tired of our pro­cras­tin­a­tion. A dull fever is set­ting […]


Don’t believe that it’s impossible to dis­ap­pear. It is. Don’t believe that it’s impossible to step off this whirl­ing world for a few pre­cious breaths, or even longer, and excuse your­self from the scream­ing hub­bub, the voices in your head, the doubts in your soul, the banal and the every­day. It is. Your route is […]

Another journey by night

Some­how, everything is becom­ing vir­tu­al ripples, con­cent­ric circles seen in a scene on a screen in black and white. We’re typ­ing frantic­ally, back and forth and back again. Dotting our eyes and cross­ing our tees until our fin­gers over­whelm us and our blurred vis­ion can no longer keep up with our pathet­ic phys­ic­al­ity. The mind […]

And this room in monochrome

Don’t bring a torch. You won’t need it. I have fur­nished us with a single, swinging light which will provide us with quite enough shad­ows to stare each oth­er down and out inside this fea­ture­less room. I have decided, decreed, determ­ined that you can inter­rog­ate me in black and white. It will be a learn­ing […]


Whis­per in my shell-like. Just close enough to hear, yet not close enough to feel breath. Then tell me. Tell me all and everything, even if it’s noth­ing. One after anoth­er after more and more still. Reel them off, unthink­ing. Open the encyc­lo­pae­dia you have always kept on that dusty shelf at the top of […]

Walking the ghost

I saw a ghost today. Just your aver­age com­mon­place, mundane, work­aday, run of the mill ghost, walk­ing through a throng of shop­pers in the hazily pol­luted urb­an sun­light of a summer’s after­noon. [I swear I would know that face any­where.] I don’t know where and how you are sup­posed to see such appar­i­tions. Films, lit­er­at­ure […]

Drop in the ocean, fall in the river

This was the someone I nev­er knew. There were only two form­al but friendly phone calls, if that. A couple of back and forth email diver­sions. Pleas­ant. Noth­ing more, noth­ing less. Three years ago, half an age here, almost an entire life­time over there. No more words came after, because there was no need for […]

While you sleep

All I can do. I shall sit here, barely mov­ing, barely breath­ing, hold­ing your right hand gently between my cool palms, feel­ing the del­ic­ate lines of skin that form above and below the joints of each of your fin­gers. It’s true that I am impa­tient, always impa­tient, and that such impa­tience makes me reck­less, both­er­some […]

A percentage of perchance

I am fas­cin­ated by sleep. How it breathes, how it rhymes, how it reas­ons, how it tastes. The moment­ary lapses it takes in the spaces between each breath. You have taught me this and that and so much else. And all under the same moon, too. Some­where at the oth­er end of how long is […]