Walking the Ring Road A sprig of hawthorn brushes away gritty city miles – back to gran banishing me and may blossom from the house – Smell of death. Smell of death. I’m running back to the trees clouding the field edge, burrowing up from the...

      One hundred geraniums   No steampunk engine, no onyx dashboard, no timepiece whirring as the world unwinds… I ride a dry leaf to travel in time. Citrusy astringency in my palm hot-wires one hundred dead geraniums in my hippocampi, to blaze again...

      Clambake I had not heard of it the night its title was spelt out in tiles on the oujia board. The question lingered on the air like smoke from a blown-out candle, Is there anyone there?   My thighs clenched, dreading a reply. A pause then before...

      Postcard he squealed around bends drinking until he sideswiped the Castle Douglas sign his golf umbrella was a shield between gift shops and departure but it hooked at strange faces and hurt his arthritic hand he almost bought a travel-rug and...

      Unsaid We sit in the glare of the morning sun A mug of tea in our respective hands I perch at your side all pyjamas and messy hair I am 5 years old again but you are the one propped against pillows From the bed we can see the woods we walked and I...

      All Day Breakfast   Your bad hours fizz in a squirming glass, and as cheery as they had previously seemed you require the waitress to please change these flowers, they’re fake; this head, please ... this universe ... Hope the bellowing coffee can...

      An Englishman’s Right (1978) A bitter sky hung above, people pushed past, wanting to get home, on tenterhooks. Birmingham, home to division and Enoch Powell, prophesying ‘Rivers of blood.’ Racism ingrained, transfused via jokes told by Stand-Up...

      Dasheen  Tuesday: a mountain of rice, one roast potato, two pieces of fried fish with bones and skin softened through oil, draped in sour rings of pepper and onion, home made coleslaw, tea. The plate is piled high and hot before you even take off...