Hello

      Everything Changed except our Way of Thinking  I’m always thinking about how I can find more human beings. Or how I can have a better relationship with a human being.     Why you are you.     And I am I.     And why that should be a problem. It...

      Web Sorry, but I’ve stopped cleaning the windows. Or I guess I’m not cleaning that one pane of the window that looks in over the living room. I’m leaving it for the spider with the round body like a peanut and the striped legs who has made her web...

      Wildflowers No one has ever told me to Go back to where you came from Perhaps it’s because I look like I’m just passing through They know I know I don’t look like I belong here I fall into the category of guest The perpetual rambler A forever...

      Muckle Flugga   Unmoored on an ocean of heather no wind to pluck the strings of the aeolian harp Policed by the unsettling glare of nesting great skuas we tread the narrow path The boardwalk rises and falls under a sky empty and scoured of song To...

      Morning Beach in Gopalpur Those night boats are back. Fishermen string their nets Counting fresh catch. The fish stink. Flies buzz around crabs. They are knocking hammer on wood. I want to take a few steps more To see what’s going on – Find them...

      Reflex That was the time you caught the mumps and I was half afraid I’d catch it too. Or it was measles and it was me who had it, lying in bed for days reading the bible – children’s version, illustrated – where the devil was all red and had pig’s...

      Prevention Science Walking home from the lecture on Frankenstein through the November mizzle, small breaths of exhaust sighing in the twilight headlights, particles of wet air commingling. When I look into the branches of the evergreens I can...

    Octopus I am one Like short of being beautiful. Five hundred more Followers, I’m away to fight culture wars. I Block two for lies Quora does not verify. Counter-factuals are ok, there’s simmering wastelands to make out of vague, but someone sent a shroom...

      This poem is a secret after Elma Mitchell It doesn’t trust paper. It writes itself in my head where no one can reach it, laugh, tear it to shreds, or call it a waste of space, a disgrace. A poem is grace, a prayer, my longing for more than I am....

      The Day Nothing Happened It was a quiet day— no bad news, no sudden loss, no reason to hold my breath. I didn’t notice it at first, how rare that is. The sky stayed where it was, the ground didn’t give way, my phone remained silent in the best...

      Lot’s Wife I think today of the boy in choir class who closed his eyes when we sang about Jesus. Who swayed, as if the Lord himself was in the room. I sat in the back row and braided my girlfriend’s hair. Men are allowed to worship each other. To...

      ‘Attention, after all is prayer’ (Jo Bell) We saw a kingfisher threading the bright needle of his body along the river. We saw a shag, stamping her prehistoric shadow on the sky. We saw a hobby, compact, fierce, not a sinew out of place, alert and...

      The Double My double sits before me now. I stare deep into her, as I do every day after midnight. When I raise my hands, she raises hers. When I wink with my right eye, she winks back. My childish braid sticks its tongue out at us both. "Good...

      Dear Iran after Sholeh Wolpé Even though I only once traced your streets with my own feet, you wandered into my dreams anyway sliding in through my grandmother’s stories, drifting out of the steam of her afternoon tea searching for a place to...

      Marseilles Road -She calls him up- She wills his brush in colour, and chalking, fierce hued flaws, which fall flat on the canvas, She uses a dark outline and replaces his image with cholic fumes. -He doesn’t pick up- He wants to place her in two...