I Got The Arthur Blakey Blues
Between playing field and farmers fallow – where cowslips and poppies bob and bow in an endless game of politeness – a tree that thought Victoria was fleeting, stood alone, … Continue reading
(Chromo)Y+Y = +sumgain
I’m in a weird mood. Maybe this visual poem shows that. Normal service will be resumed once I have this bee out of my bonnet.
himanimalwail
The third piece about the 80’s HIV crisis. It’s been weird writing about this stuff and has brought up some awful memories. I guess this can be seen as ‘therapy’ … Continue reading
Learning Shame and Anger in the Midst of a Moral Panic.
I’m often asked why I don’t write more about being queer. I find this to be an odd question. As far as I’m concerned, all of my poetry is queer … Continue reading
Dudley and Eunice
When the storms Dudley and Eunice were wreaking havoc on the land, my friend Mark remarked that they sounded as if they had escaped from an Alan Bennet play… My … Continue reading
My Ex In Anger
A poem about making the best out of a crappy situation and grabbing happiness where you can.
Dungeness. March 9th. 2018.
Prompted by a visit to the spectacularly odd town of Dungeness on the southeastern corner of England. An expansive shingle beach is sparsely covered with shacks, bungalows, the odd piece … Continue reading
Stillborn
I’m fascinated by Ravenscar, ‘The Town That Never Was.’ It was meant to be built on the cliffs just south of Whitby and Robin Hoods Bay to capitalise on the … Continue reading
An Autopsy
A true story of homelessness in mid-80s Sheffield. Previously published in “Absent Ginsberg” (A Swift Exit) With apologies to Saul Bass for the adapted poster.
Kiss Me Again, Jack
Short and sweet. One of the things I’ve utterly failed to grips with, on moving south, is the lack of winter. I mean, being from Yorkshire, I’m used to deep … Continue reading
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