Monday, 23 January 2012

Misty Curtains

Misty curtains dripping

From the ceiling

Washing metallic onto my tongue

Out at birdcage pier

On a grainy day.

Wind carpet beating the tide

It chases me on pebble slides

Or dives away

To the horizon folded over the sun.

A crow taps a shell on a stone.

I taste the cold

A breath for a new wave

She must be another bird

To be calling on the beach today.

Wave flash

Slate dancing

Only I can hear me

The crow unconcerned

Carries his meat to a high table.

Give me purple sea fern

And nothing worth money.



Monday, 16 January 2012


I liked holding

His scar armoured hand

That could easily kill me

Or anyone

Who hurt me.

Hands I'd seen break the calm in two

Then mend it again

As I tore up another page

From the rule book.

My paper cuts hardened

And Dad hammered away the same

I never looked for a boy

Who was like my Dad.

And if I cut him by leaving

Neither of us said

We felt a thing.

And now after illness

And splintered relations

It's his hands bleached clean

And defeated

That retrace the scars of his lifetime

In my head

And I wish we could

Step down from our standards

Before it's too late.

Can I throw you the rope Dad

And see you half way?


Monday, 2 January 2012

Night Bus

Early on the first

Level crossing up

Bus shelter

From the rain

Ten minutes

Us and some kids

Look the other way

Spitting games

Steady boys


Can I have one

No I've got none left

Princes and princesses

Stilettos off

Bare feet

On the pavement

I don't know why

We're waiting

We've got no money

Not in service

Here comes another

Don't get on

Puffy faced couple

This bus isn't going


Walk away

Look I'll give you twenty quid

Trouble last night

Get off

Her dad will cut you

Thirteen year old girl

Just the boys

He called me a speccy cunt

Not the girls

Come home with me

Get on

Police back print

She's only thirteen


Upstairs bro

I've got two glasses

In my jacket

Olive girl in white

Sandals and bobble hat

For safe keeping

I've been at work today

United nations of restaurant street

She looks like your mum

She reminds me of

Blond on her phone

My pockets are longer than my shorts

Where are we

Happy new year.




Always carry nail scissors

She said

Hide them up your sleeve

And aim for the temple

I've only been really scared


At the turnpike.

I never pick anyone up

He said

Not with you

Not with you

In the car

With me.


Going Home

Going home

Late at night

Late in December

Waiting and listening

To a bird singing

At Croydon station.

How long

Did we wait

For a train

Going out

That afternoon


Places to be

Standing at the station

Listening for an announcement

After a suicide.