a bowlegged woman and a woe betide gent and a worrisome teen with marker pens, come suddenly through the door. Over the rim of his jar, he decides them, "a very rum number indeed."
The back lane, this new-year dawn, is littered, bleakly - tumbled bins, spent bottles, knuckled tabs, sodden boxes; hound shites, plastic wraps, a quilted headboard, yellowed hand towel; wrapping-paper tumbleweeds troubling parked cars; a bloody gown of herring gull (gutting something); and the last, the very last, or the first, Christmas tree, skulking and skittling … Continue reading The Wronged Tree.
New Brighton - where the sun shines, even when it rains. As he leaves the shadow of the station, Sam is bathed in a sense of being on holiday, of being abroad, of being. The sun shines on New Brighton. He puts on his green shades. The sky is bigger here; the seagulls, unlike the … Continue reading New Brighton
i heard a man with a dry cough. i saw a dog with a leg hacked off. i forgot just what it was to wake up in a mess of hot cloth. the queen's speech don't cut it no more.
Jackdaws & Witches jackdaws & witches tapping watches, stripping you to the bone. some still can't say your name without stretching all the wrong vowels. i hear your voice i'm ankle-deep in bluebells. my red penknife unfolds. i'm scratching your initials. trapdoors every monday morning, cornflowers, my boots are soiled. the grey birds, they are … Continue reading Jackdaws & Witches (audio)
kitchen window three-ten blues she loves me, yeah. she loves you, too. oh, what's a boy to do? i ask you. on the rooftop, mars. she deems do cower. "please make it disappear." oh, what a to-do? i ask you. appropriate words. now that's what's needed. proper, appropriated, properly words. kitchen window four-ten blues i … Continue reading rooftop horizon