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
Lullaby
The frenetic signal lost from Luxembourg at 0045 hours nightly, gave me time to retune the transistor to the long wave, ghost whining of empty air. White mono earphone … 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
Temptress -Another Tale From The Urban Prairie
The true story of my first visit to Sheffield. I had come for an interview at Shirecliffe College. Going by the reputation of the course and college, it was my … Continue reading
I Can Never Forgive Ann Widdicombe
The day they tore the flats down, a woman dressed in a navy blue uniform with red silk sash – buttons and medals winking with delight in the low … Continue reading
Coelorum Perrupit Claustra
We recently visited Bath and found a Museum dedicated to William Herschel, astronomer and discoverer of Uranus. The museum is in the very house where he discovered the planet. It … Continue reading
The Road to Gentrification
(Written after a conversation with a long-term resident of Stokes Croft, Bristol) Banksy’s been and sprayed the wall with invective and wry situationist drag and pheromones that attract … Continue reading
I’m In a Fairly Grim Mood . . .
I’m in a fairly grim mood today, mostly because of the rampaging juggernaut of idiocy that is today’s Brexit Announcement. Anyway, I found some notes and I have no recollection … Continue reading
Poetry News!
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
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 … Continue reading
Will Vigar 
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