Mar 8th – The boy without a name

March 8th – The boy without a name

The boy without a name
likes to sit on the top deck
of buses, and watch the world
unravel itself outside the window.

Strips of cities tear
into strips of countryside
into strips of cities of again
and the boy without a name

lets it all go by.
The boy without a name
has an unremarkable face;
you don’t see him, clearly,

on the top of the bus,
with the world unravelling,
but he sees you, watches you,
notes your movements.

The boy without a name
carries no bag. He keeps his
story safe in the safe of his head,
combinations of events,

half seen, are accessed
when he needs them. He never
needs them. The boy without
a name casts no shadow:

He never walks in the sun.
His footsteps are silent,
a slippered ghost as he echoes
your pace: a grey shape

as you turn around. The boy
without a name is the brother,
the son, the nephew, the cousin
all of us never had.

At the last bus stop,
at the end of the stripped world,
there is an empty seat
and a lingering sense

of the boy without a name.

Inspired by a prompt from here

Stranded in Burma – Dead Deer

Stranded in Burma

Hands shaking, head cracking, bones creaking, vomit rising, ears bleeding, now, this is now. Movement, always movement. Striding, stumbling, wading, waddling, wandering, wondering. After the movement, the mystery. Why, how, what, always, when, where, who, not so much.

I stand, here I stand, I do not move, I block out thought. Still movement, all around, a dog idles by, a cyclist zips past, clouds rush onwards, here comes the storm, rain falls, lightning rips through the sky. And I? I stand. Here I stand. Nowhere to go, no one to tell, nothing in my hands.

Drenched, I stand, I breathe, I hold out my arms. I am here, here I stand.



Yes, I move, I walk, I am walking through streets of Nay Pyi Taw, you wonder, as I wander. Why am I here? When did I come? What am I doing? What have I done? What will I do? Why am I stuck? Here. Here I am.

my an mar


Today I wrote between 15:21  and 15:31. I was prompted by an idea here. My other writings here. All my prompted writing here, my tweets here, and my book here.


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