postcard #2 – istanbul

i am unwritten but i am beautiful and there is, truly so much written in my walls but all you see are spires and minarets and the sun rising like desert fire throwing them into dusky relief i want to call myself sophia and call myself wise sancta sapientia and sings song about cities that once were still are what’s in a name i’d call you byzantium anyway and name all my daughters after muses and maenads and the apple tea will be spiked and we will float down the bosphorous dreaming once more Continue reading postcard #2 – istanbul

postcard #1 – budapest

they call paris the city of lights and twinkling on screen i believe it but here the cardboard comes to life passed through the hands of me of you of countless postal workers of bridges lit up carrying light across the danube glowing like so many strange nebulae a skyline of dark and amber a gilded series of shadows the pearl of the danube laid in gold [this is a series i will work through, i think, on days when i don’t have specific other creative plans in place – hence the name] Continue reading postcard #1 – budapest