luke otley
solstice
The moon sags over the harbour accusingly,pregnant, threatening violence –another broken recordsweating winter solstice,tent on a palleton the steps of …
the man who coughs
you hear himfrom the bathroom windowhacking every three minutes or so. for usit has become white noisealmost – almosta comfort …
grip ‘n’ rip
Grip the lamppost side on, fit to rip it from the granite and begin spinning like a Jō staff. Bleached …
out after toast and back after dark
There’s the somewhat dilapidated apartments, greyspeckle aggregate, each with a car a quarter century old sat outside proud as a …
shower
the showerhead is a magnet attachedto a swinging armof a crane abovea scrapheap suckingup car cubes, and it’s so sad …
suitcase confetti
a suitcase burston the bulkhead, its contents confetti –papers, papersgift receipts, train ticketsa sympathy card slicedaway and cuta child’s cheek,a …
blisters
Seagulls on a flat roofregal as robed Caesars – combine the wine& garlic with the egg yolks and anchovy,the hard …
generated title
My Amazon parcel lieson my doorstep like a fingerin the collar bone drones can’t knock the packet turns from pineto …
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 …
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, …
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 . …
Old shirt
And here’s my old shirt, blue and green with busted holes two, three, no, four buttons blown away – bounced …
On not getting the job
Beyond disappointment; I saw real fear in the tears of flashes of future cold as hands on bed-warm thighs; of …
Control
I like to imagine it as an idea rumbled in, wrapped around the rungs of a thundering chariot’s wheel, smuggled …
Another self-centred poem
I tried being a deadbeat alcoholic junkie, the nights got longer and the world darker and much smaller. After I …
MY TROUBLED MIND 