Unable to sleep…

He took a knuckle of tobacco - naked but for a blanket cloak - in the moonlight of the kitchen, smoked a length of cigarette. He drank a cup of tea.   He drank a cup of tea - rolled another cigarette - on the pre dawn carpet shapes the birdsong calling from the shadow. … Continue reading Unable to sleep…

A Perfectly Good Table.

Skirt gathered at her knees, chin on a table, she’s asking now something of the ear of a wild-bearded man. She sweeps her hair from her cheek. He appears not to listen. His black leather cowboy hat and bike jacket speak sinister wisdoms. There is a tiny gunmetal death’s head pinned, longtime, to the lapel. … Continue reading A Perfectly Good Table.

Jigsaw Cousin (it rained that night)

[cut-up postcard poetry] [paper scissors glue] [fictional piccolo creative] I bought a stack of National Geographic at Southwell market from a man who sold old mirrors, and reworked frames, among other things - including, an accordion of pale spines: Nabokov, Orwell and Greene (clasped at each end in a heavy bronze palm); old slates of … Continue reading Jigsaw Cousin (it rained that night)