Leo’s last day
-We do the shit, waiting for the sun, bam, easy life – Leo sits on two water kegs – Fuckin’ …
-We do the shit, waiting for the sun, bam, easy life – Leo sits on two water kegs – Fuckin’ …
Railway station in a country town, flagstones wide, dark and wet with rain. Cast iron bolts suffocated by thick beige …
My cashier was a tall woman of around 27, the tips of her hair were brittle as ice chips and …
We are the boys born in the bellies of hydrogen bombs swigging weekend beers and not worrying about the world, …
I listen to the senselessness of never-ending traffic, to the way the fridge murmurs its thanks between burps as it …
On my back Studying the ceiling cracks In a student’s house. Sent my love downstairs To fetch roasting carrots Spitting …
My ears are cupped in headphones, hood up, the radio’s drowned in the river of mid-morning cabs, buses, and rain. …
I’m outside, on the corner slate flower bed purple as burst plum, conjures mother, leant, exhausted on the speckled countertop, jousting …
Rambling mad under the threat of spring rain Dirty old field, ploughed, pulling up last year’s dirty jobs City slush …
You’re on the edge of my bed, I can’t describe it, you’re balled up and tomato pink, my baby my …
The relationship between this desk, these keys, that glass bottle there, touchable things, reassuring in the way they push against …
Reminded of steaming windows one inch rolled out, battery roulette, and music, always music that reminded us of places where …
Wouldn’t it be fine to slide down the side of your sofa cushion in complete and utter silence, to get smaller …
Most of us are awake in air that drills hot lightning blue idiot truths all the way to the core. …
The pram gets pushed with one hand, the hand lifts off the bar and the middle finger curls out like …
Pan au chocolat half eaten, lone toothpaste without a brush, peppermint tea atop red wine rings. Last biscuit in its empty pack, …
Something about you broke my heart. Something subtle stung me in the way you moved around that pond in the brick …
You were always petite, with your thirteen inch screen sometimes I had to squint to catch the fine print, though …
These days I hurry to keep myself in sight. Profile glances into restaurant windows often whisper me warnings. Ripples and …
You bastard you bastard, you predator gnawing at my sock – there’s flesh under there, blood skin nerves and pain, …