On Visiting Alderley Edge in the Hope of Finding a Wizhard
I wanted to follow in their footsteps – inhaling the clean filth of leaf mould. Terror and adrenalin giving scent to the enemy; to be “relentlessly pursued by outlandish creatures.” … Continue reading
Bridge
Fat land, moss wadded, pushes against my feet, carrying me to the bridge; held in the scent of warm brine and red fescue. Swaddled by wind fingers, I … Continue reading
Aurochs (Irish Sea)
Through the trees, a rum tang of brine encroaching; a brackish lick insinuates itself into a bed of coarse reeds that wither with its saline sting. Aurochs sensing their time is … Continue reading
Via
nameless child nameless child mother earless mumchance isle-bound by the grace of a king – to search for the divine idiolect – communion with the light of lights … Continue reading
The Wrong Forest
Mean aluminium trees – plastic vines circulating analgesic sap – fail to sway in the bare thoracic snap from tired, syncopating lungs. Phoney canopy on geometric bough. Silent, motionless … Continue reading
Two of the reasons I’m doing a PhD
A Confessional Prose Poem of sorts. i) Martin came by to babysit. I was three and had heard Good Vibrations by the Beach Boys on the radio that morning … Continue reading
Going Home: Keats – Episode 15
April 30th (1) Last night I left Spiggy watching over the exhausted and sleeping Mook. I put all the medical stuff away, saving anything that was still usable and bagging … Continue reading
Will Vigar 
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