Serial Monogamy It is snowing heavily but the train arrives on time. A man gets on and walks through the carriages. They are close and hot. He is looking for an empty seat. He...

  The Poem We Would Die For There are warning signs when one comes on -- a sharp tightening, a thickening, clogging in your chest -- like when a love poet struggles with a cliche the word...

      I Made Biscuits Again I bake – my hands, they roll – they squeeze and stir; And while they do, I dip in days slung past. There was a time when I could break your heart And have...

      scent turn my head and you are racing creaking oak  and silver racing to rubber and salt salt and me on your skin taste myself on you taste my sweet blood roses to see  and wash...

      The Portrait of the Surrey Man, Retired to Madrid Renouncing the Pimms, the sarcasm, the BBC and cockney, he moves now like an old fighting bull: clumsy, with a swollen belly...

    The Park I go for a run in the park every day before breakfast. I like the park. There’s an old-fashioned bandstand surrounded by fragrant flower beds at one end of the park, and a...

      Converting the Heathens   When you’re middle aged, Religion may occur to you on Fridays as the ringers swing up  ropewards like failed suicides. You may find yourself...

      Dumb Creatures Ingleman kills penguins for God. They were a mistake, you see, in the first instance. God realises now just how stupid they look. He is embarrassed he ever...

    Unrequited It was February, a leap year. I was heart sore. Garnering strength in the lengthening of days. Before this, I spent the autumn holed up in my old room watching woodpigeons...