Cure I asked the doctor what was wrong with me. He held his stethoscope to my amygdala. Thought there was something blocked. Try writing, he said. I have, I told him. Had to put a bung in my pen. Stuff kept dribbling out. Can't you check my...

      Fairies There is little to be told about them really: they took my teeth, left modest coins and a note sometimes on paper blue, detailing private lives among frogs and wrens, schemes for the bloody stumps, the writing crazed as a butterfly's...

      (Untitled) Oscar had faith in me; I sang without breaks, effortlessly reached the  highs and lows,  was the voice on the love songs he wrote for his wife. When he fell in love with me, he bought me a bamboo flute, highly polished, an object of...

      Death Rattle Back in the day, everyone loved a good hanging – curiosity gathered in the town square, red-nosed, waiting for the theatre of mortality to end. Today I attract the equivalent crowd – have to untangle my vocal cords from intrusive...

      Shtriga The evil eye is when someone you love looks at you but they aren’t there. My mother is now a Disney villain; the sun has become an insult. She should be fitted with a blood-black velvet cape. Pale blue eyes in a hard-set face stare out...

      The Art of Collaboration Whatever job he’s given, the collaborator is a perfect fit. A man of no fixed particulars. His views are plastic and always on the verge of being melted down and made otherwise. His life is a full orchestra of raised...

      At the Birmingham markets When I was young, before the sky was torn, I strutted in-and-out of poisoned jobs and bare-walled rooms, poor yet indestructible, naive and full of quirk and piss, not belonging but belonging, knowing more than anyone...

      Thief You took my index finger and showed me where to go. My thumb you painted green. What do you want to grow? My elbow helps you move across a crowded room. But why'd you take my mouth? What will you say, to whom? You swept my feet away and left...

      You There you are again at the far end of the empty beach, scrambling over rocks beneath the abandoned nunnery painted ice-cream green. Fleet as a greyhound, tiny as a mote floating in the outer corner of my eye, matted hair a billowing ghost of...