Wednesday, 23 May 2018

Awake


Thrown up from beneath the Hamnavoe
white against a blue-black sea
an endless chorus of can-can dancers
froth of lacy petticoats
legs lengthening.

Wednesday, 4 April 2018

On my way to buy a morning paper #83


I know the name for them is not begonias
(but cannot currently recall what the right one is)
and, remembering sun-bleached crèpe paper
(used for 1950s shop window dressings),
dislike them for the colour-fading of their flowers.


Friday, 30 March 2018

On my way to buy a morning paper #82


Reading this week about ravens –
the death of one, the threat should they all leave –
the crumpled blackness in the centre of the road
brought apprehension.
Closer, small relief:
only a gold-lettered M&S bag,
recently discarded.

Friday, 23 February 2018

Keep fooling me

Long-dead apples
shrivelled and brown
cling to bare branches -
chilly winter birds.

Thursday, 22 February 2018

On my way to buy a morning paper #81

Car-shape dryness
in otherwise wet road
signifies an overnight stay
its placing -
anonymous, unclaimed -
suggesting illicit,
adulterous.
I look around and wonder
'Who?'

Friday, 6 October 2017

On my way to buy a morning paper #80


Traffic louder than expected
Cropped council mower circles in the grass
Full moon growing slowly larger
as it declines.

Friday, 29 September 2017

On my way to buy a morning paper #79

Hydrangea bush
Over-crowded blooms
suffocating venous crimson  
crushed and crinkle-edged with gold
leaves poison gossip green.
Holding the potential drama
       of a Victorian drawing room,

Wednesday, 30 August 2017

On my way to buy a morning paper #78

Beneath a sorry-looking tree of unknown type
(dusty diseased leaves, green berry clusters)
a circle of crisp and huddled leaves;
colour chart for painting virgin nipples.

Thursday, 22 June 2017

Apparently there's a heatwave further south

Sky the colour of unchanged bed-sheets
from which someone rose daily
returned to every night
for days enough to count as half a year.
Weekend lie-ins
occasional masturbation
merging with the slough of skin
and grubby rare-washed feet.

Monday, 19 June 2017

On my way to buy a morning paper #77

A short man (squat?)
black-clad
(impression of a cloak)
shiny black curls
clutching several bits of shopping
and singing, deep-voiced and loud
Leonard Cohen's 'Hallelujah'.