poem

Sent my love downstairs

On my back Studying the ceiling cracks In a student’s house. Sent my love downstairs To fetch roasting carrots Spitting …

#1

My ears are cupped in headphones, hood up, the radio’s drowned in the river of mid-morning cabs, buses, and rain. …

Spring poem

I’m outside, on the corner slate flower bed purple as burst plum, conjures mother, leant, exhausted on the speckled countertop, jousting …

Fish & Chips

Rambling mad under the threat of spring rain Dirty old field, ploughed, pulling up last year’s dirty jobs City slush …

Butterball

You’re on the edge of my bed, I can’t describe it, you’re balled up and tomato pink, my baby my …

I can’t figure it out

The relationship between this desk, these keys, that glass bottle there, touchable things, reassuring in the way they push against …

Remembrance

Reminded of steaming windows one inch rolled out, battery roulette, and music, always music that reminded us of places where …

Sofa

Wouldn’t it be fine to slide down the side of your sofa cushion in complete and utter silence, to get smaller …

Restless Legs

Most of us are awake in air that drills hot lightning blue idiot truths all the way to the core. …

Sketch of Lovers

The pram gets pushed with one hand, the hand lifts off the bar and the middle finger curls out like …

On Your Desk

Pan au chocolat half eaten, lone toothpaste without a brush, peppermint tea atop red wine rings. Last biscuit in its empty pack, …

Poem For A Haemorrhaged Frog

Something about you broke my heart. Something subtle stung me in the way you moved around that pond in the brick …

A Poem For An Old Laptop

You were always petite, with your thirteen inch screen sometimes I had to squint to catch the fine print, though …

These Days

These days I hurry to keep myself in sight. Profile glances into restaurant windows often whisper me warnings. Ripples and …

Ode To Kitten

You bastard you bastard, you predator gnawing at my sock – there’s flesh under there, blood skin nerves and pain, …

Ecstasy

Your skin tweaks as if to the scuttle of a beetle’s touch, and the window is stuttering in the manner …

Abortion at 19

Every time you hiccup it sounds like I’ve pulled the plug on the heroine of a horror flick just as …

A Poem For The Present

I wake up every mourning in a world packed to the rafters with His & Her handguns, heart hammering and …

Be Like The Fly

I feel frustration bubbling against the crock-pot of my bones. All these prize winning poets seem so calm! I exclaim to …