Minstrels and Mischief

Minstrels and Mischief

This hyper­text poem star­ted out as an exper­i­ment to show my stu­dents you could make com­pel­ling con­tent without know­ing a lot of HTML. And then I got a little obsessed! It’s a story of a fire dancer and a mask-maker and...

London 7/7

these pared down, har­rowed days con­jured from flame and fervour spread thin like a cry drawn from parched lips; like an ache refracted. in our cities, bodies drift like sparks in con­flag­ra­tions — ash-light; empty rhet­oric falls gnarled as tinder. what...

Winter

Ah winter, your vaul­ted roofs are sandstone And your halls are chill. Your cor­ridors echo with a lone brown oak leaf and the south wind. On the steps, a philo­sopher dreams civilization, Smoke curl­ing around his fantas­ies. Winter, You are...

Crimped

For my Grandmother She is old and crimped like a pinched-off string Yes­ter­day was filled with memor­ies of buttercups She made dolls of moun­tain devils when they were babes Tomor­row, a glass of sherry on her own, in her room Yes­ter­day was...

Sparks

 It’s like this: You go numb into your silent lunch hours Into the chill doom of daylight Are swept street­less down to city libraries Walk out with China Mieville novels And Duke Elling­ton and urban fairytales Trying to warm your hands and heart...

Café Tabac

I half-expect Gitane-smoking men To flow through the door, Exclaim­ing: “the world is here And demands exultation! O cel­eb­rate, you daugh­ters of justice! O weep, you chil­dren of suspicion! The ivy has freed the streetlamps. Statues guard...