The building site on the edge of
Nottingham was mourning a great national tragedy. We were hungover as
a result. My young
arms ached from the weight of the plasterboard precariously balanced
above my head. My Father, who held the other end, exhaled the sweet,
stale odour of the night before into my nostrils, triggering
my
nausea. The screw I was attempting to fasten slipped to the floor
followed by the plasterboard and then me as I attempted to stem the
tide of pressure
threatening to burst forth from my stomach.
Unlocked Box
Unlocking the box buried in the deep dark places inside of the mind. What will be unleashed? Your guess is as good as mine
Wednesday, 27 May 2020
Friday, 22 May 2020
Interruption
The pager beeped
It's scream rallying men of the town
Who dropped jobs, lovers,
babies (metaphorically I hope)
And the poems they were trying to write
Wednesday, 13 May 2020
High Temperatures and Suspicous Coughing
Is
that? Ah no! A cough! I bury my head in the sand for a second. It’s
nothing, it’s really not that bad
I’m
fine. Just a splutter. Who will buy me vape-juice?
Thursday, 7 May 2020
Jaws
And churned it’s nectar to soot and smog to satisfy our desire
And war burnt carcasses while they still had breathe in their agonized virgin boyhood bodies
Tuesday, 28 April 2020
Lord of the Winged
He tucked his wings and descended to a stony bank at the foot of the cascade in the middle of the shallow late April flow. If humans walked past he retreated to a horse-chestnut branch on the opposite bank, staring from one eye. It was approaching sunset. A solitary human sat on the limestone, laptop open, staring back.
Wednesday, 22 April 2020
Glass Table
There are crumbs on the glass table by the couch and more of them all over the floor.
It’s driving me mad as I try to type, I ought to be doing the chores.
My mind is as messy as the clothes in my room that the sunshine is begging to dry
The shit on the bowl of the toilet upstairs is a nice little meal for a fly
Sunday, 12 April 2020
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