Tucking one arm behind her, throwing out the other; up front and on bended knees, looking rather pleased, she says, very sweetly, I invented these. Dusting down the figurines, endless cups of tea, combing crumbs from the sofa, keeps the window clean - sunlight pouring in. He says, I invented these. Tweezing splinters from her … Continue reading The Inventors.
Sonnet, woven over poets’ weekend, to birdsong, kisses, blue socks, caresses; long baths, silk scarves and Lichtenstein dresses. Vacate the room by eleven a.m. On honeymoon sheets. The duvet is penned by second breakfast: Zimmerman verses; the cadence of their kitchen voices. Bend the bow, release; villanelle ascend the roads and bridges of Northumbria. Greetings … Continue reading Sonnet (Bus To Dungeon Ghyll).
August 10 2015 Croydon The shopping centre reeks of men's hair product. The haircut remains the traditional short-back and sides, but edges toward something quite Hitlerite of late. There are too many men sporting baseball caps. Too many men in tight or ill-fitting sportswear. Too many oversized tee shirts proclaiming Old Guys Rule, Pink Floyd … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island…28
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