I woke up and the room was dark. The room was dark and peaceful. I had been dreaming about someone from the past - a friend I hadn't seen since twenty-fourteen or sometime thereabouts. She was working in that dream in a school, she was working in that dream behind the reception desk in a … Continue reading empty pages.
January 16th 2009 (Hook Farm, Uplyme) 8am. There is a doe outside the window. She is 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 … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island. 11
november, this window grows crowded with an apple, halved avocado, tangerine, sprig of mint. a ginger root man, a cork, a silver dollar and a hard rubber egg (where did that come from?). an old yellow zippo, a ufo book, a penny pipe from the thames. a bracelet and a figure in need of some … Continue reading Roud’s ‘English Year’.
For his next trick he needed a rabbit. I have a hat. As you see, quite empty. No sudden movements, please. She is nervous. Please dim the lights. He petted down the audience with a finger and what was to become (in later years, or definitely next time around) his catchphrase, Well, well, well. Who … Continue reading As You See, Quite Empty.
The smeared sights, the bright lights – Felling, Hebburn, Pelaw - rushed the windscreen and nearly disappeared into the rear view. Dave passed the patchwork allotment in Jarrow. Sad flags, a surprising number – a Jack, a George, a rainbow, an A in a circle – hung there over wet sheds and plots from plum … Continue reading Looker.
Poetry is to be dropped at school as a GCSE option... but education experts warned that they wouldn't be able to stop teenagers writing at home at night.