Looker.

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.

Notes From A Fragile Island.

November 6 2004 (Crystal Palace) [letter extract] 'Last night, random fireworks snapping their fingers over and around the surrounding boroughs - just one or two every hour or so. The first one though exploded out of the dark blue cover of teatime, quite close by and actually made me jump! Next door's little lap dog … Continue reading Notes From A Fragile Island.

the bitter taste of almost breathing

i rested on the handle of my spade and smoked. i witnessed a congregation of privet, solemn hemmed and so cuffed with berries  that even the herring birds, oddly black against the cloud, eschewed with cackles and coughs and with caution; such is tumbling rubbish on a breeze.   i worked a thread of wet tobacco from my tongue to … Continue reading the bitter taste of almost breathing