Will Vigar

poet. writer. imposter.

Lunar Tattoos

In the next few days, I’ll be releasing a chapbook on Amazon. It’ll be available as a kindle book and a print on demand item. I’ll also be having a … Continue reading

February 5, 2018 · Leave a comment

Church Ope Cove

Tethered kelp shakes angry algal fists at boy racer waves reaching for shore. Slow-time tides beat lunar tattoos. Oil black mackerel taunt the shore bound; Slick and shifting. Wind whips; … Continue reading

February 5, 2018 · Leave a comment

Kiss Me Again Jack

So many years since I felt the hoar caress my cheek with needle teeth. Not breaking the skin but bringing it to rude life . . . Kiss me again, … Continue reading

February 5, 2018 · Leave a comment

Just Because…

I’ve started illustrating some of my poems. This is mostly for Instagram (itswillvigar)but obviously, I’m going to put them up here, too… cos… y’know… shameless… the first two are incoming. … Continue reading

February 5, 2018 · Leave a comment

The Goodfellow

This baleful repetition – reaped and sown by the click and the flash, shackled in spider-murk and animate tangle,   is no jest or gawde but the felling of bodies; … Continue reading

February 2, 2018 · Leave a comment

A Dream

To see the sky with no tangent vapours marking its jetted limits…   To see the land unboxed, its concertina scars flooded and weeping…   To see the mirror-straits deepest … Continue reading

January 5, 2018 · Leave a comment

Losna (Winter)

From beside a sun- paled bridge – enamel petals falling, brickle and bleached – I watch the mounting satellite –   wan-creeping above bitter horizon – over looking-glass spatters of … Continue reading

December 19, 2017 · Leave a comment

Tromsdalen

There was a time when a small shack, – unused in decades – stood here, shaking under a barrage of wind and hail;   door barely hanging on by it’s friable rust devoured hinges; charged … Continue reading

December 12, 2017 · Leave a comment

ursus maritimus

Her head low and eyes fixed on mine. Loping from floe   to sea to dolerite schist; crackling on the lime rich shore;   following stale musk. Per shakes my … Continue reading

December 9, 2017 · Leave a comment

three

i have walked for nearly thirty miles and yet lack the courage to pass through the sap sticky firs and on to other soil   there is no mark no … Continue reading

December 3, 2017 · Leave a comment