January 16th 2009 (Hook Farm, Uplyme) 8am. There is a doe outside the caravan window nuzzling the wet grass. She glances up at me after a while, stares, chewing, then continues foraging. Later, I scoop and crumble the insides of yesterday's french stick and I scatter the bread on the grass for the small birds. … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island.
I think it’s fair to say that this week’s challenge has been the most challenging to date. I am judging by the amount of participants who told me the villanelle form had stretched them, as it did me: the first villanelle I wrote did not follow the traditional rhyme scheme, so I had to write…EIF Poetry … Continue reading EIF Poetry Challenge #13: The Results — Experiments in Fiction
January 11th 2005 (Croydon) More flowers in the alley between George St. and Park St. Condolence for a kid killed by a bouncer at Flares: Goodbye m8. God Bless. Gutted. RIP. The bouncer was charged with murder on January 1st - what a way to start the year! The news doesn't surprise. I witnessed from … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island.
I packed a stack of old records in a Tesco's bag and took a 109 into Croydon. Some were mine, some were yours; once upon a time we called them ours. Tim looked sad as he opened up that Tesco's bag and spread out all that vinyl on the counter. He pointed out some scratches … Continue reading scratches in the sunlight.
a bowlegged woman and a woe betide gent and a worrisome teen with marker pens, come suddenly through the door. Over the rim of his jar, he decides them, "a very rum number indeed."
The back lane, this new-year dawn, is littered, bleakly - tumbled bins, spent bottles, knuckled tabs, sodden boxes; hound shites, plastic wraps, a quilted headboard, yellowed hand towel; wrapping-paper tumbleweeds troubling parked cars; a bloody gown of herring gull (gutting something); and the last, the very last, or the first, Christmas tree, skulking and skittling … Continue reading The Wronged Tree.
