love poem
Gas stove tickssmell roasted coffeebury onion bulbsin garden soil holding fingerswearing jacketsthink of nothingeat roast potatoes black caramel cruston a …
Poetry
the way I think (about the way I think)
Rush past the gauze bush blossomyellow on dark like explosive blasts frozenby the shutter, and heatfrom the windscreen, hand on …
The Blacksmith
the hammerthe horseshoe the iron the heat the barrel the water the rushing release the strain the brow the eyes …
Something about butterflies
Always small rooms and square, white places, limited possessions gatheredup, unpacked and packed again every few years. You betsomeone probably …
Things I remember from my parents’ divorce
We were told in the garden, upsteep deep crooked steps – wellies dragged by clumsy feet – grass dancing, rainwater …
Tea leaf
The tea leaf swirlsout the spout, birthedinto the mug – it’s amazingto see how it’s grown,I’m so proudI could cry, …
Drive
Drilling into the barnyard dark, probingout curves like a dentist diggingdown into decay, workingup the other side of the valley, …
Not a preface to a 20 volume suicide note
I am as brittle as a pane of glassshuffling down the same streetcreaking like a scarecrow come aliveas I stoop …
Mouth of the Mine
The maw of the old mineshaft reminded meof the stove-in mouthof an end-of-the-line lush,left gaping there glistening by bored kids, …
Scene outside Chelsea Hotel 1970
The fire escapeis a raggedy spiral thing –a rotten tin box of ribs,have to climb it in a half crouch …
Fire
I heave up another lungful of gulped down stars and margarita moon (behind: a guitar plinks and ripples and twangs, …
Hayfever Sketch
At that moment in the long grass, or weeds, or whatever they were – but long, long, two feet at …
Your Relationship – Poetry Reading
View this post on Instagram 'Your Relationship' poetry reading with video. Missing my typewriter so knocked up a few shots …
Scene in the Gents
I watch you working the body with a boxer’s predatory rhythm, ravaging that tin box like werewolf a fairytale maid, …
Buckshot
She took her things that lined the shelves, they left holes in the dust like buckshot in a stag’s flank. …
Water Glass Moth
You cling to my finger like a newborn.The same weight that clogged your engines and draggedyou down to drown now …
Rockpools
By the seathe urge to screamdrains awaylike the tidefrom the rockpools. Of courseit will return againbut for now you can …
Cow
Machines liftyour hulking massweightless, O wingless angel slityou giveand give and give. You area huge and creakingoaken tankof red grape …
ALL GAS NO BRAKES – micro-collection available now basically for free!
I know what you’re thinking. Poetry? What a goddamn snoozefest. You’re not wrong, but you’re in the right place . …
MY TROUBLED MIND 