Light at the edge of the world It takes both of us to pull the door open before I follow her up to the light room, climbing what appears to be a thousand spiral steps. At the top, leaning on a bent rail worn by old hands, I am breathing hard, like...

      The Sturgeon The mechanics of suffering is not so daunting to understand it hurts for a while- gums and bellies pierced by an unseen passion... and then it is done the savory-sweet, cherry cough syrup scent of death dries and disappears, leaving...

      The Ceiling is Painted Vivid White Many things crave our attention: the plates maturing in the sink after last night’s spag bol; the poinsettia dying on the windowsill; the news constantly playing on phone screens or the TV; that photo that needs...

      The Biologist, the Poet and the Silverfish On my first ever date, he romances me not with poems but with talk of nocturnal dry-land fish, how they glide and skitter like mercurial swimmers and grace the damp of his bedsit grime. Like them, he has...

      Many hands The day before the fridge broke down I wished it would shut up As I listened, trying to breathe, the noise separated I could hear the electrons shocking about in the wires the liquefied gas gurgling thinly in the pipes a ringing like a...

      The Lost Tongue Some said he had no tongue. The words he spoke came through his body. I watched him nod, put up a thumb, flick his head, shake a hand, shrug, and walk fast as if his feet were on fire. Not many people knew him or maybe they didn’t...

      No Show Poser un lapin is what I keep doing when I suggest we meet in the forest where the air is soft and the trees leafing as though we could walk side by side without touching as though you hadn’t entwined your feet round mine like roots...

      The Road to Witcombe Water As she passed the white hemlock weeds that crowded the verges beneath the wires from the Old Exchange, my mother left her footprints remembered by the gravel, dusty tracks by the lichgate, fifty years by the weathered,...

      Sweeping out the Store Before the finality of his broom and the open door he    pauses to study the trails toing and froing along the dusty sidewalk some crossing this threshold to buy supplies a pair or two don’t stop head on past to the saloon...