Short Writing

Archive for the ‘Poems’ Category

Communities and Opportunities

In Poems on August 10, 2011 at 9:36 pm

So he went off to get his feet nibbled by colourful fish
in a dressing gown in a fashionable parlour
in an exclusive rural neighbourhood with many
viewings-a-mustHis body diligently penetrated
by dozens of slim acupuncturists,
his tea extruded through bronze dies, Read the rest of this entry »

Scrabble

In Poems on July 24, 2011 at 5:33 pm

Let’s play Guess Who.

A thought from your head as blind
as a bus. Bats see with sound or not

at all, that game they play in porn
where a good moan is like a light Read the rest of this entry »

Negotiation

In Poems on July 10, 2011 at 7:50 pm
The stranger was me; I was the stranger
to the hour. He had travelled
miles and miles from nineteen eighty
to my wooden room where I had been stuck for days. Read the rest of this entry »

Flittermouse

In Poems on July 1, 2011 at 3:38 pm

Samuel Johnson’s word for bat returns
     to me at sundown, beneath a screeching cloud.
Forms zigzag while the moon watches, thirsts. Read the rest of this entry »

Cold Front

In Poems on June 10, 2011 at 2:46 pm

The Arctic seeps through an open
carriage window, puffing commuter’s
palms into polar bear paw pads
and, like an acid peel, turns tans

back to pink and cream. Headphones  Read the rest of this entry »

Grey Men

In Poems on March 31, 2011 at 11:54 pm

That reactor, says Ivan, is deliverance.

Will spawn new words. Chernobylite. I tell him
they will hang us like overalls on his new words – Read the rest of this entry »

Nude XI

In Poems on February 13, 2011 at 8:27 pm


Dear Telepath, here at my makeshift bureau,
I’m trying my hand at a picturebook Read the rest of this entry »

Narrative

In Poems on February 13, 2011 at 8:02 pm


I miss the empty night in the city,

the wiped clean surface of the road, Read the rest of this entry »

The Bucket

In Poems on October 15, 2010 at 12:41 am

In an attempt to prove that God didn’t exist,
I filled a bucket with water

Read the rest of this entry »

Academics

In Poems on September 30, 2010 at 10:31 pm

The Oxford buggers mostly are the worst…
After a reading, when I’d like to eat,
Or drink… relax, at any rate… he comes
(it always is a he…) and asks me why
I don’t revise my work. He’s sure I don’t. Read the rest of this entry »

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