Dogweed Insecurity.

One afternoon, a kettle faced woman and a big red man came in The Eight Kings. Big red went to the bar and kettle face came to the window and sat down on one of the stools facing the sea. He brought their drinks. She had a small white and he had a Bloody Mary … Continue reading Dogweed Insecurity.

hinge of laughter.

some memory of blue clay, of buttered gorse, jutting bayonet of flint, half-hidden, always just an inch away,   this very, very evening, returned again, beleaguered, beached and batchelor: palm of secret, saddened gems.   the following adornments remain abandoned on the tidal floor waiting for me to discover them -   a glass of sand, a special … Continue reading hinge of laughter.

Mirror (8): Pale Airman.

8      [photocopy of a snapshot] I cut Lillian's hair every twelfth week, dry it every sixth. It grows. I cut it. I dry it. It has become grey by increments; city pigeon to autumn noon, fading print to cigarette ash. Each accretion of tone slowly highlighting further her pink brittle cheeks, the pools … Continue reading Mirror (8): Pale Airman.

Run As Fast As You Can, Bear.

Kreuzberg. 08:00 Monday October 28th 2019. Soft electric light illuminates the calm room. Thirty-five tables. Each table set simply: some for lone diners, some for couples, a few for family; cutlery, white crockery, triangle of napkin, heavy, cool folds of cotton. Some settings will remain empty and some will be filled. I cross the wooden floor … Continue reading Run As Fast As You Can, Bear.

Prompts for future conversation.

Of clearing her father’s house in Enfield, she would only stand to say, “Have you ever tried to sell a baby grand? Or even given one away?”   After forever it was all that was left. Guess this world has little need for a baby grand beneath a paper lampshade, on the quiet parquet.   … Continue reading Prompts for future conversation.