Hello

      Auntie Joyce I knew your face when I saw you from the backseat window in the hospital car park where you stood talking to my dad, so I must have seen you before then. Perhaps at your son’s wedding, for you had to be there. I remembered you also...

      Norwegian Trees Still Bear Evidence of a WWII German Battleship According to their research, one tree sampled saw no new growth for nine years after 1945. -       The Smithsonian Imagine a ship pulls up into your fjord and releases a cloud of...

      Coping Because I had a vivid dream I could telephone you in Heaven, somewhere my brain believes it’s true; delusion is a kind of redemption. My conscious mind habituated to our almost-daily conversation, my unconscious has found a line to sustain...

      My Swallows after Ann Gray I talk to the swallows as they dip and dive wonder if they return because of me. I tell them the cactuses are dying, that I'm the wild boar rooting around for grubs, that I don't sleep much these days. I tell them the...

      Toast Ken (now Kenneth) shrugs. He can’t have his liver ripped out after all without his reading glasses. I have Alzheimer’s. Those marshes. I know. Nigel (already regrettable) shares a name with – let’s leave it at that. Sends new guidelines,...

      Mechanical Bear   I would give you a mechanical bear and watch it move across the table-top. Soon the mechanism would go, poor bear, but you’d improvise and make it climb walls. No bear in history had made it as far. The first bear in space, the...

      The Cosmos of Small Details: When A Young Poet Asked for Advice For Dean Young (1955-2022) Hey Bro, how do we know what’s real? Like what’s really real? Can you actually prove to me dinosaurs existed? Prove evolution? Prove radio waves? Gravity,...

      The Perfect Platonic Prison The canal is the most perfect of mirrors reflecting the purples and blues of the boats and the greens and blacks and blues of the trees. They all reach down in perfect symmetry. There are shabby huts and black cats....

      Bunnies? We were delicate creatures once: shy, wide-eyed, exotic incomers. Holes had to be dug for us. Always toothsome, we have descended the scale of what is desirable, losing caste, coarsening, getting bigger, faster, fitter, more inured to...

      She runs a circus now Her will drives them round the world – a cavalcade of needy clowns, prima donna gymnasts, tigers. Even in mufti, you can sense the whip back on its hook by her basking boots. They keep changing the legislation, so she runs...

      Convergence   After that first year, they were never the same,  the planners with their Glastonbury smiles, their beatnik topology, though they still carried the henge inside them,  a degree or two of slippage was lost at the roundabout,  the...

      Essential Worker Queen of the sandwich bar she moves no financial indices, wears blue overalls without red braces. She has planned every movement, her rapid questions in optimum order ‘eat in?’ ‘flora on your roll?’ ‘jalapenos?’ ‘salad with...

      Beware the silent child (4) The arcade is a belly of echoes, jingles glancing off games and slot machines, repeat repeat repeat, punters’ voices a murmur that dies on the carpet. You enter to spend a penny, then retrace your steps to the exit,...

  Beside Everything, in Paris The morning was warmer than the one before, with a blue demitasse lighting your hand up in front of Notre Dame, its steam disappearing like its insides. And the gold flush of my shoulder against your cheek. We held our mouths for...

      Fish at the quarry I usually hide Fish in my stomach, let it flip away angrily in the acid, or else I stuff it in my pocket, where it gets all woolly and dry, and goes still. Today, I take Fish to the quarry, let it stew in me as I gaze out over...

      The Pea-Sheller of Crab Street She’d be out there all hours, half past three, two minutes to midnight, shelling peas on the front doorstep, always impeccably scrubbed. The pop of the shuck and the plip of the peas as they dropped into the chipped...