With the slow months’
awful march,
the black men sitting beneath the
winter oak stretch and
gasp and hide again,
The fuzzy squares of my skin,
woven with eight-sided patches
of 60′s wallpaper,
do nothing to warm the sticks
of …
Her mind is a box,
six brown walls with packing tape
and a message:
‘Fragile, this way up’
When bumped,
a soft purr trails from her ears, and
eyes chase dreams pulled by string
on claws of probability.…
Three times shy of the fly, my fingers flirt with the air. Damn things have been runnin’ around my head all day, straying too close to my drink for me to think of anythin’ else but their thousand-eye smile. I …
But I’ll keep smiling,
and eating these noodles,
because I’d never want you to realise,
I can squash my own cockroaches now,
Mum.…
I saw a gypsy in the tiles today,
polka-dot kerchief on a stick
over his shoulder,
Next to him stood a giant,
with wings tall as skyscrapers,
sheltering a race of three-eyed aliens,
that fought valiantly against a tide of …