writing

Hackney marshes

The Rapture

I dreamed I was the only one left in the world. It was a Friday. I was going to see you all Monday. I went to the marshes on Friday…

Connswater

Connswater

  Our river wasn’t a clean river, a mountain stream, a babbling brook, or a silver girl. It was a filthy river, a city river, forsaken, neglected. Long gone, the…

Inca Doves

Inca Doves

  Is it odd to say I thought of you as I pulled a dead dove from the swimming pool? Spine up to God, floating lightly with its bright beak…

you are and onto

    neither of you                              nor not this in stance beside congruities one thing not a way            …

Peppered Moth

Our Wings

Fair is fair, and clear is clean. Clean air is clear, clear air is clean, though I fathom the factories fair fouled it up. Particulate, exudate, aerosols, mud, benzene, dioxins,…

Lead drainpipe

Liquorice

  With drains for legs the rain runs off you And though it’s always cold, (with lead for legs) it’s not wet. Black roots are hard but damp liquorice runs…

Washington Heights

When It Breaks

When the side of the building falls, it is a spring morning, April, not yet dawn. And there is no warning. The crack was there for a long time, all…

Vilhelm Hammershøi, Interior - Strandgade 30

Filth

  Covered in filth, a disastrous clumsy brain excavates deep to identify causality.   Distrusting and perilous, Broken mirror images echo an unsung nursery rhyme in an incomprehensible language. For…