A true story of homelessness in mid-80s Sheffield. Previously published in “Absent Ginsberg” (A Swift Exit) With apologies to Saul Bass for the adapted poster.
I took part in a conference at The University of Portsmouth called “Mapping – Uncharted Territory.” My video piece contained three of the poems from my Shipping Forecast project – … Continue reading
We tramped through narrow dew set paths lined with gorse, it’s barbed wire limbs waving warning trophies of rent clothing; a BMX, abandoned in the no man’s land of briar … Continue reading
Saltwater seethes from the Black Isle to tease an endless beach; sea touching sky with a palette of blue green and haze grey. Rothko shimmers quickening the landscape painting … Continue reading
In silt and sand awaiting the thellasic lick of high water, flaccid buoys – tethered to mark the edge of aphrodisiac beds – rise in time for the smack and … Continue reading
And then there’s me… the reluctant God of All Distance, placing a foot on paths seen only In lucid dreams and on Google Earth. Breathless and drifting I vault … Continue reading
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
There is a car rot on the lawn; the on ly ev idence that we once had snow. Win … Continue reading