The Wayfaring Diaries – A Sample

“Here it is my friend, Argentina’s national drink, Fernet con Coca, 2 parts Fernet to 1 part Coke. Salud.” We drank the Fernets on the balcony and from the corner of my eye I kept my gaze pinned on the woman across the street. But she wasn’t looking at us anymore. She was watching television….

An Ode to Travel

  “Journeys are the midwives of thought.” This quote from Alain de Botton’s The Art of Travel goes a long way in explaining why almost everything I’ve ever written has been tinted with wanderlust. Human beings are lofty animals because we, uniquely, have a name for happiness. Other animals can only ‘do’ happiness – be…

I Want My War

  Dedicated to the survivors of Srebrenica   “The local soldiers didn’t even have a uniform. A lot of them were just kids fighting in their Converse and jeans. When they weren’t at the frontline I saw them surviving like the best animal, and every night they’d be gather around a burning car tyre trying…

The Belly of New York

We need to start talking about why you look Mexican. Being Maltese I am – we are – sufficiently mixed with Latinate blood to pass, especially with the right facial hair, for something resembling a Mexican. Buy, my daughter, why you have to look like an Aztec princess gazing down on a queue of sacrificial…

Doubt and Apostasy in Golgotha

  A golden-faced Christ looked down on me from the dome. His Byzantine face was sterner than the blonde countenance of the European Jew that gave us Christmas. Like some Andy Warhol print Jesus’ face has been replicated like rain-drops in a violent night sky. Growing up I have seen him in musicals, churches, key-chains,…

Epicurean Realism

  Ever since I was small I was fascinated by the big role little things played in people’s lives. Being an argumentative sort I always pitted imaginary battles in my heads: food vs. career; football vs. relationships; mementos vs. ambitions. Of course now that I’m older and presumably wiser I know it’s not a case…

The Chilean Diaries

      What are you to do, what are you to do when your father is the most hated man in the country? All because of something he didn’t do. A poster-child of alleged child-snatchers among neo-liberals and their political shadows. The “man who kidnapped his own daughter” (newspapers in Malta don’t have the…

Venezuela Frozen

    The morning crawled slowly slowly up the garbage bag’s skin. In a red-tinted back street a garbage truck stands like a colossus. The boy wakes up and goes for breakfast, eating from the garbage truck’s ass. A cold morning wind blows in from the foaming sea. The boy shivers; until he hears his…

Carnival of the Dead

Carnival of the Dead Today is the dawn of an old winter. Death, so friendly and chatty, descends Like a pregnant ash cloud to kiss the roofs of our mouths. A carnival of life mocks the dead, Their dancing further burying the black corpses Until their remains lie so far buried That we are allowed…

Inner Landscapes

Childhood   What world is this With so many blues? Birds fly like planes And houses Have balconies for faces. Olive trees Shake hands With palms. And beaches Drown with the tide. Oh mother, I don’t know!     The Pen   Like snow To a mountain, Or the cocktail To the man who screams…