When the last man on the shore sings, wavesreturn with a shoal of corpses. The rotting flesh piled on the dunes bares the skeleton, à lathe starving ribs of boats in Van Gogh’s Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer. The fixed gaze of thedead, parts the long hair of the night, flashes the searchlight, calls the floating corpses home.The trail … Continue reading Chorus | Dissident Voice