“Final dweller,” said a voice, “who are you?” ...
Author: Pam Swanborough
writing and other occupations
Clothes Kill
You can now drive for miles on dust roads / that were once part of an abundant seabed...
Another April?
We slash and hack and burn, hedges wasted, trees slaughtered, wildlife afflicted. And yet another April.
The Apocalyptic Vision of a Beast Put Out to Pasture
The dispossessed came to live beside us, naturally, in cities and towns, on shores, on hills, above bowling alleys and in cheap apartment blocks ...
Sapling
This beech sapling, sprung of its own accord from the parent tree, is old enough to join its mother in the leaf-change...
Confession to the High Priestess of Nature–if She Exist
It's a bitter wail, An enduring whimper ...
Our Ending Days
We are always predicting our ending days, not now, but just around the corner
Marigold Inn
The moon had waned, and Heather—no longer having tables to busy or bus—rolled silverware. For her, it was the prime of the night.
DISPOSABLES
A play about... disposables.
The Extraordinarily Mundane Adventures of Earth Boy
Lights come up on Matt, wearing a helmet and a shiny space suit. He stares up into the sky as if he were watching fireworks, but they happen to have been the same fireworks for weeks. He clicks on a little tape recorder... A Play.
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