Monthly Archives: June 2018


with one smooth movement you spread my bones in the low, grey winter morning beneath the covers            we are soft and strong            appetites so vast we astonish ourselves fierce and delicate            our heads seem disjointed from the hips to commune […]


Your company is always winter’s open fire where deep things rise, Things I draw upon and become reflected in their glow. It is not just the serrated logs I’ve added that I see there But logs others had, even if they’re now crimson flittered ash. What radiate from the gentle-blue core and orange arms Are […]


Before you, I wrote often in private. I was not concerned if nobody read my poems, only with the poems. My interests were tension, texture, emotional honesty. New words interested me for the effect they might have on those things. Funny, tension seems to alter with what we use to create it. They are not […]


Enters one’s life as a full-sized grand piano — 18th-century European wood — Wedged diagonal across the room It has a huge lock shaped curiously Like my head But the key cannot be found, and Sitting inside the case Is another key to a second door Leading to other parts of the house With time […]


I don’t know how late it is I am writing with a chewed ballpoint Up against my knees While fog hangs upon the city Lassitude draped in her folds They say poetry is about expression, Which carries many meanings: Strong opinion, high emotions, Bold gestures We are encouraged to speak, Speak our minds Go on, […]


Childhood. Magic. Late-night travels. Dangers in the forests. Life held down, Dissected, examined, like in a laboratory. Nobody steps into your writing Without carrying some kind of crisis. Nobody steps into your writing Without carrying vacant chambers in their heart, Behind the daily, monotonous, prose-bound rhythm, Roles in their own drama, Without meditating upon the […]


As you read this poem You, yes, you Whose eyes and smile I love Whose smile and words I love Whose words and depth I love Know I am not working my imagination To build a scene: I hear The endless traffic washing down the roads The coughing of a neighbour Like a machine starting […]