Cherrypicked stories
The Caterpillar Speaks in Tongues
The Caterpillar Speaks in Tongues I can see each segment converse with the next, a Newton's Cradle of green pulp, a susurrus and hum of tiny hairs crossing and uncrossing like rods in water-divination.
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- 2214 reads
Saturday 28th October 2006
I blame 'The Double Life of Veronica'. Had I not seen that a few Sundays ago, I'd not have bought it. But I did, so I did.
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- 1027 reads
Blind Date
"So which one is he? The tall dark one by the Gents? That blond one by the fruit machine? Coast looks over to where Lynn is pointing. Lynn nudges Faye, raising her left eyebrow. "It'll be the ugly one, the ugliest guy on the row, Faye says, lighting a cigarette.
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- 1988 reads
Heliotrope
Heliotrope. Today I came to the place where I buried you. It is a fragrant perch and this year after all the rains tadpoles swim against its twisting shadow. Wild fennel clings to the banks
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- 2119 reads
We're going to own this bar
I am telling you I put the new firewood in the coal shed and the firelighters are in the kitchen drawer with the bottle opener and the Marlborough Lites and the coupons for money off Barbecue Pringles
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- 2235 reads
The Staines Moor Horror
Something nasty lurks beneath the Coln.
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- 4067 reads
Thursday 26th October 2006
I think of that Tolstoy line, "If she goes to her cousin first...she'll be my wife It's wise, in such moments, to remember that the next line is "What rubbish sometimes enters one's head!"
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- 977 reads
In at the Deep End
'Extra strong. Try one ' you won't regret it.'
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- 1039 reads
Found
'Found 'ee in the road, y'say?' 'Yes. Just lying there, unable to get up.' I saw again in my mind the absurdly oversized gull ' still speckled from youth ' squatting in the narrow street, panting its distress as cars edged around as best they could and sped away.
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- 3614 reads
Venus Of Willendorf
She embraces courtship at my flank, With sails so broad she could never become seaworthy,
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- 1371 reads
21. Moving on...
After much soul-searching, Lemon finally decided he'd lived in his bed-sit above the Pink Pagoda Take-Away for long enough.
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- 1074 reads
Don't Stop
Don't stop being exasperated by stubborn computers, cupboard shortages, forgtten errands. When your cheeks rise scarlet from the bone it looks like passion. Don't stop questioning my social white lies, that left unchecked
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- 1012 reads
Torn
"Hello?" I say, the vocal epitome of cool, because I'm sure as hell not cool physically right now.
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- 903 reads
Lipstick
A poem. About why I dislike lipstick. An seminar excercise.
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- 1305 reads
Overcomplicating Tea
Overcomplicating Tea She tells me that poetry overcomplicates itself. I grip my teacup harder, lean into the plastic sheen of the table. You wouldn't understand, I say ' wouldn't stir for the flame's grumble or its dance
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- 1255 reads
The Swans Absent Colour
The Swans Absent Colour
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- 968 reads
Tiny burgers at the Penguin bash
They had the plasma screen showing Huw from the BBC news with the sound down. It looked like the world was teetering because the footage was of missiles by grey-scale night vision. And then it was a map and North Korea glowing like a big red button. And we all felt a bit awkward or angry or distant and Hari Kunzru was there and Simon Armitage was drunk
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- 1677 reads