Hello

      My Dad Complains That The Hedges Are Overgrown and the word bemuses me, implying as it does the concept of excess in what can only be good. Why do we crave these straight lines and clean edges? The hedge itself is a border, a defining. A this is...

      Between the Ears For Seán Street, in celebration of his 80th birthday (2nd June 2026)   Molluscous receivers, would that you could turn your talents inwards, and pick up all that goes on in the cerebral swamp that separates you, with its...

      Twitch There's a flash of colour from the hedge. His arm shoots up and hangs pointing - at the empty space where the movement was. As he names the bird he thinks he saw     Luke Moran is from Folkestone, he works there in the public...

      And when you step into the clearing there will be dancing. The unsteady moon, shaken to ribbon; shimmering through regalia of clouds. Shawls, as if ermine, still scurrying (wee winter-whitened weasels). & the one elm sways too. Lit, like a...

      Again Again the rock is wet. Again no spring. Sheltered under the ridge the fence post leans where it always leans. Mud. A buzzard mews, turns in the wind, a faraway engine grumbles. On the ewe-path worn to here, close to the face of cold granular...

      Knowledge She doesn’t know what she is doing. She chops and boils, snacks and sneezes, sits. Classical radio plays, imbuing the scene with comic dignity and wit. I close my eyes, wrapping truths in wool and wearing them about me. To be frank is to...

      Ivy’s deference and not Ivy thrives despite dependency. It hangs on, has its other day. Ivy does not press its case. Its patient face is no surprise. It does not draw attention to itself. Its business is in secretive delight. It’s second violin to...

      Interview with my sonographer How much water did you have to drink this morning? Did you sip your coffee without worrying about its diuretic properties? Was it sunny where you were? I took your advice about the elasticated waistband, the full...

      Humanoid I was cutlery left out in the rain, rusty by morning, a side-slipping fiddlestick desperate for music, starved for company. You were a knockoff  BOGOF version of a briny punk with a commitment phobia permanently out of your habitat and...

      Kafkaesque Imagine waking up one day and discovering that you are a horse. At first, you might not believe it and think you are dreaming. Gradually, you would come to realise and go, hahaha! Oh my god! A horse? You would look down at this body...

      Halting Dreams The leaves are growing out of a harangue of loneliness palms cupped I listen to silences of winter or summers and unmask faces caught in tangle of storm, the history of what was not written or recorded in books, time’s erasure in...

    Instead of Dying I’m Taking a Trip to Kansas where the light appears as if walking through a gate in the air opening the gate and walking in together with eleven varieties of sunflowers including the common one you don’t need to sprinkle the seed in...

      The Lean-to Glasshouse Its timber frame held together by the waste of its own decay The rot a kind of glue undisturbed Cracked panes of glass hold their fractures still Hearts tongue ferns grow beneath the dripping tap And at the end in the damp...

      I Am Trying to Love Frank O’Hara More   I really am! I am trying not to see his exclamation marks as cheap melodrama and his endless conjunctions as some kind of separation anxiety or fear of mortality for what do full stops signify except dying...

      Tardigrades A leaky drainpipe drips creating damp patches on uneven paving, slime green algae blossoms forming viridescent ripples like growth rings and soft spongy textured moss gently squeezed produces droplets of moisture; Adam’s ale, an elixir...

      Samsara if samsara’s concrete please don’t come back as black jackal for I live in Norwich nor spineless worm as I don’t have a lawn ditto poppy fields with my hay fever nor breeze I don’t open those windows now so I might not hear you nor beige...