Sometimes a scrap of knowledge gets caught in my brain and I can’t stop worrying at it. Today I learned that William Wordsworth and mutinous Fletcher Christian were at school together. Not in the same class, plotting separate extraordinary careers, of course, but in the same building for a while. Christian, six years older, ignored […]
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 […]
Dreaming of blue mud
When I think about mud, I know that it is the inevitable consequence of the nourishing rain meeting hospitable soil. I think about mud quite a lot… being here. I don’t blame the rain. Not at all. Its occasional parade pandemonium comes with a silver lining: snazzy raincoats, lush landscapes and that smell. But the […]
