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[an dinas is Cornish surviving in place names, sometimes not immediately obvious -- it means the fortress and often indicates a fortified headland, though not exclusively] Dusky weed-strewn territories. Here on the heights, low as they are, defensible places all ruinous; near indistinguishable; an dinas. And, below, the grey many from the slopes down to the rising sea, gathered to breed and multiply and be scattered, covering a wet Earth with arid rock. And, west, another kingdom of boulders. All tiny, scaled to what is always above water which is imaginable with eyes half-closed, scraps from childhood thought still taking nutrient that the rational and weary skull ignores. Between the two states, desert emptiness that’s rarely crossed except at slight peril. Tracks go forward and stop before finishing. Small flies hopping with not much to feed on, waiting for a fool with bare and fleshy skin. It is other than the western view of things. Not an inverse or big rearrangement. What one sees here is different to there. (And what worlds do the programmed flies perceive?) As one crosses, the sensory perception -- like jackets where the sleeves, clinging to wrists, pull through, in reverse, and take unexpected shape -- drags together a new delusion narrative. ----- UNFRAMED GRAPHICS by Lawrence Upton 42 pages; A5 paperback; colour cover Writers Forum 978 1 84254 277 4 wfuk.org.uk/blog ----