(some loves are always in the distance) She sends sloe gin bottled berries from Stonebarrow they arrive in the mail. she dresses, she blesses christmas trees with her handmade presents, they arrive in the mail. * let's sit outside on the doorstep tonight i'll pour sloe gin and we can watch the satellites (take flight) … Continue reading Sloe Gin.
Tag: shit haiku
Salt & Gold
they are selling salt and gold. do we care, my darling? mined from the mountain of the soul, beneath the fingernails of children. beneath the gaze of waged men, beneath the hourglass of women, the stalls are laid with mason jars and scales and ingots in glass cabinets. hark! the voices of the barkers trading … Continue reading Salt & Gold
Roud’s ‘English Year’.
november, this window grows crowded with an apple, halved avocado, tangerine, sprig of mint. a ginger root man, a cork, a silver dollar and a hard rubber egg (where did that come from?). an old yellow zippo, a ufo book, a penny pipe from the thames. a bracelet and a figure in need of some … Continue reading Roud’s ‘English Year’.
mess of hot cloth
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.
An anagram of Dorset
West Bay, she said. Oh, the other side of Golden Cap. Depends how you look at it. I Guess. * She recorded ambient noise onto tape. Well everyone needs a hobby. And when she returned she brought a gift. - Recording of Chesil Beach. I play it on headphones when I can't sleep. Wake up, … Continue reading An anagram of Dorset
Jackdaws & Witches (audio)
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)