1. 1983 and faux anarchic romanticism seduces me. Squatting for peace dreaming that the threat of Threads is gone and Barefoot Gen can sleep unhindered; ashen shadows confined to graffiti. … Continue reading
I have four poems in THIS COLLECTION You can buy the paperback from HERE And the Kindle eBook from HERE It’s spent a week at number one in the Amazon poetry … Continue reading
After playing some Bach, which Spiggy dismissed as ‘music box rubbish’, we sat down for breakfast. Spig was his usual inscrutable self; Mook, again, had something on his mind. He … Continue reading
As expected, the skin wasn’t looking great; grey and squamous . . .
“I really think you need to give this superhero idea up.”
“Well it’s quite primal thing. A lot of animals sleep with their tribe. It’s safety, comfort and warmth. And we are just animals after all.”
Jeff tries out Superhero personae. Alberto is less than supportive.
He wanted to know why we didn’t go out at night. I did a double take. I thought it was obvious.
“Yes, I understand that those creatures are out there. Is that the only reason?”
“Isn’t that enough?”
He smiled and said,