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
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
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
Rockall Sketches
1. Storm flirting kittywakes plummet as waves dance a reckless saltarello around the bluff islet. Luttering brine and summer squalls engulf. 2. Hasslewood hides – tooth rotten in the gum. … Continue reading
Hotel. Birmingham 19.8.17 (03:17am: I Am Insomnia’s Bitch)
Sitting by the threadbare curtains, looking over the illuminated building works, from the fourth floor, waiting for something interesting to happen. Birmingham sleeps, but a drunken Mancunian does not. … Continue reading
Seeds
With the battle lost, the remnants, ground down, were used as hardcore for roads, built to bolster shiny new tram lines that rush people past the ‘dozer razed haunt, with … Continue reading
The Urban Prairie
The title poem of my upcoming book and dissertation! Rooms seeping for pointing north; a coal head for illumination and air; coal fire that gave light and warmth; a griddle … Continue reading
Bonnie Tyler and the Pigeon Gibbet (Tales From Tales From The Urban Prairie #26)
The guy next door suffered from schizophrenia. He talked about it to us often and gave us regular updates on his well-being and the state of his medication. I would often … Continue reading
I Saw – Another tale from Kelvin Flats
Twice a day she passes, each time tutting a mantra to banish the monolith. Knowing, as she does, the obvious squalor of it’s subhuman inhabitants. She writes her … Continue reading
House Proud (Tales From The Urban Prairie #30)
I’m working on a project based on the flats I used to live in for most of the 80s. The notorious Kelvin Flats of Sheffield. The poem ‘Milk’ is set … Continue reading
Will Vigar 
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