(after Stevens, closely)
I
Among twenty locked-down blocks,
the only moving thing
was the patrol car. Continue reading
The castaways
How typical. Just like
us caught between the waves. Continue reading
threescore
A piece dedicated to my on-going hand therapy.
And for your pleasure here’s Leonard Cohen going ‘no more a’ rovin’ (lyrics by Lord Byron) from a favourite album Dear Heather.
on this earth
an ancient comb in the Met.
animals parade across an ivory page Continue reading
Sea | Flowers
Down in the channel the tide inhales and
seaflowers fixed in the surge and swirling
rush wave frantic at tenant fish tripping. Continue reading
admirable words on hand, always
Like all writers, I like words. I keep a list of admirable words on hand and every so often I’ll pick one and say aloud, ‘Yes, quiddity.’ Continue reading
A lovers discourse
after Barthes
My language trembles with desire.
It is as if I had words instead of fingers
(or fingers at the tips of my words). Continue reading
Slippage (Quadrille)
o my divided soul
astride the tides of time
Continue reading
Self-doubt in the expanding universe
Floodlands
1.
out of nowhere
a swollen wash of silt and logs Continue reading
