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 …
poetry
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 …
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My Amazon parcel lieson my doorstep like a fingerin the collar bone drones can’t knock the packet turns from pineto …
To which I said nothing.
What I remember is the cockroaches and how no one ever told me they could fly. I was trying to …
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
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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, …
MY TROUBLED MIND 