Downpour What I love about rain is its sheer bloody toldyousoness its smell, of course the plash, pitter and plop its ’bow a smug waterproof coat strangers talking kaboom, flash thunder storm dry firesides wellington boots with fleecy linings its stopped play lushy swishy grass clouds smearing the overthere hills a single bulging orb […]
1 Saturday
Poem: I come from …
I come from the north, From grey harling, drizzled crags and scree. Dandelion and burdock. Engage low gear now. Bacon for breakfast. Breaking in your boots. Passing places and bloody tourists. The library’s parquet gleam. Peewits and feral cats. Toasted arse against the Aga. Wellies and broken veins. Creosote on the fence. Shirt […]
But first…
Today I’m going to write a poem, but first I’ll pitch a tent, Today I’m going to reach my creative potential, but first I’ll arrange a guinea pig funeral. Today I’m going to experiment with self-expression, but first I’ll find lost football boots… Under a bed, with the distracting dust balls. So I write a […]
Daffodil
Daffodil I am a member of that host here by the bay from flinty, frosty shudders to the weary wilt of season’s end. On parade in my egg-yolk crown, fluttering, dipping alone in this crowd. Breeze blasts cruel tempo and pushes me: I’m on my knees then twitch again to still. That bitter loath-ed wind, […]