Brexit

Another deadline headline it’s about time they sorted it out…

Read More

Crax in the ceiling

Nobody’s sure anymore about what we felt sure of before we weren’t sure and I am not sure anyway. But we built our houses from straw spit and sawdusted the floor what were we waiting for? absolution? absolutely? well Pan played the pipes like a flute he was a ram of a man, are you…

Read More

Almost midnight

The poets like friends that I knew were just passing through, and the night tasted stranger as the words that flicked fingers like flames on my cheeks disappeared on the page. The danger was in the remaining in draining the last drop, but I found I could not stop and the cup of bitterness tasted…

Read More

This is poetry?

Traffic light red means I stay idling in bed, means the thoughts in my head sleep on.. I am a fridge…

Read More