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...