England Underground
Like any other day, the sun rose not caring that the earth would steal its light, holding onto it like like a frenzied mother smothering her child. Not caring that … 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
Tickets Please, Mr Auden
It wasn’t the Savile taint of the Age of the Train or the jaw dropping sexism of travelling like the men do, but the efficiency of engines that killed the … 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
Stanlow
This is a piece of visual poetry. The text was overlaid onto a picture of Stanlow and apes the night time skyline of the refinery. Unfortunately, wordpress compresses pictures quite substantially. … Continue reading
Three Haiku
Nostalgia A box of photos. The debris of simpler times. Wonderful and sad. Lament Time still gives no clues As to how you changed the trees From oak to … Continue reading
Will Vigar 
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