Will Vigar

a writer of sorts

Hotel. Birmingham. 19.8.17. 03:17.am

Birmingham sleeps, its illuminated building works, a shadow jungle to trap the drunk and wary.   Lost in the plastic and sodium labyrinth; infernal circles traced in brick dust, he … Continue reading

February 8, 2018 · Leave a comment

Hotel. Birmingham. 18.8.17. The Treachery of Mirrors

It’s stifling, even with the window open. The bloody workmen have woken me with drills and diggers with alarms that sound like they will break into ‘Jingle Bells.’ Every few … Continue reading

February 7, 2018 · Leave a comment

Not Gold

A rucksack, mugger torn, spills a life to the floor. Gathering the remnants; wallet, money, destination gone;   no choice but a park bench; enamelled metal and stale beer sticky; … Continue reading

February 7, 2018 · Leave a comment

A Prayer to the Bean

February 7, 2018 · Leave a comment

A Deserted Village

An Architect would no doubt weep at the maze of tumbled rock found sad, lonely, lost beneath the sweep of beaten bracken paths. Summer brings bright silence with each new … Continue reading

February 6, 2018 · Leave a comment

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