In the black well of the silent sky, drops of moisturethat may be stars. Among the crowded houses below, perfect and imperfect strangers jostle for sleeping space.Warm air is drawn into uneasy lungs. Every bed full, and even barns and stables hold…
Read: As much as time can bear
I am reaching the age – or perhaps I’m past it – where you start looking back and working out what you’ve achieved in life. Early on I was aiming to be a novelist, but it was easier not to be….
When I was working as a junior clerk at the City Hall in the mid-1960s, paying council bills by using a room-sized prehistoric computer, I used to walk home, mostly. One day I was not feeling so well; so I…
I live with poor peoplewho have nothing to say:my guns are hidden in their roomsunderneath their beds I set traps for visitorsand burrow beneath fragile buildings I am innocent:I want nothing but river and sea,and death of course: that’s only natural…
Read: War zone
There was a hotel here:grand it was before the ground slipped awayfrom under its feet,leaving doll’s house roomsopen to larger eyesbefore reaching the tipping point,doors sliding into dust Now tree roots bind its remainsinto packed bunches below the surface:a kind…
Read: Landslide
When I visited Israel at the beginning of 2020, everything seemed fairly peaceful, although there was a rumour going round that a nasty new virus was becoming a threat. At the airport they asked us if we had been to…
This is not Phoenix, though birds are born again from the mysterious marshand recycling is in evidence There is heat too,feet on burned ground,suspicious vehicles surroundingthe hidden broadand desertout beyond the Yare:ruins of old civilisations,sails and wheels A marsh harrierdisguised as a…
Read: Not Phoenix
I have short fingers, which is bad for a number of reasons. If you’ve met me, you may not have noticed, and so I’m taking a risk in pointing it out, because longer fingers are quite attractive, and I don’t…
Autumn comes lapping round my ankleslike an incoming tide It is a Sunday in Augustand I stand barefoot in the sands of time An unexpected breeze touches my mind – flames in my brain set by an arsonist:parts of me are…
Read: The sands of time
Consultations by public bodies have long been used as a rather obvious device to pretend that they are acting democratically. “Well, we did ask you,” they protest indignantly when questioned. But of course we know the truth: consultations are presented…