The Zephyr's Oxygen Jet

And so the tide re-covers...

Cherry

Poem I forgot I wrote

The poets will be out this morning Their ostentatious pens Crumbling malnourishing words Like breadsticks Let love charge up the hills Neonise the...
Cherry

Portobello

A car cuts the silence like a lone voice in a blue, square room. A suitcase clatters over Tarmac pulled with soft urgency, as the sun heads above the...

Night-Mail

The train station - dank; gutters dripping, on Eden-scented moss. Our train rolls off its buttercup-yellow windows, lingering on the black-mushed,...