"...Peterborough." Every home is a new build; even the minaret behind the sidings; even the steeple between the beeches. "...Newalk Northgate." Dun rabbit in a orchard; fenced scrap of scrub - corrugated sheeting. New builds. "...York." Victorian iron & glass, arches. Railway museum. Silver Birch. Sleeper stack, redbrick, flint. Two-up, two-down terrace. Slate. "...Darlington." Sunset … Continue reading 17:30
xo poem and a pebble (voice 210820) cut-up/tissue paper 2015 https://nickreeves.blog/2020/08/21/poem-and-a-pebble-voice/
One haircut today, and that was first thing this morning. My winter duffel was too heavy for the hanger - it snapped. Dinner was a discount cottage pie and yesterday's beer. I dried the crockery on the arse of my jeans. The cutlery I dried on my sleeve. The laundry hangs in the August … Continue reading one haircut today.
I am the ghost. I am the breath of a ghost. I am a sigh. I am the blink of an eye. I am a dream. See these headlights and tail-lights? - I am the nothing between. I am the silence, the siren, The thought and the theme. I am the second hand, the minute, … Continue reading Never Been Seen.
i still find her on the sill in the dying birthday flowers - near to faded, pretty in the thirsty vase. her stray hair in the bath, her scrawl on some scrap paper - her receipt, screwed in denim pocket and breathe her for a moment, forever, her surprising sillage as I pass the chair she … Continue reading her ghost.
I surfaced and I breathed again. Turned it all around. And then I held her in my hand. She told me that she’d been learning speed chess, the hard way; she'd finished Falling For Philosophers by Ezra Maas. And on a towel in the bathroom was an impression that appeared to me … Continue reading Speed chess, the hard way
