It took a while, but I’ve finally plunged into the world of live online poetry gigs. After weeks of dithering about, last Sunday I did three – yes, three! – gigs via Zoom with fellow pandemonialist and Wolverhampton poet laureate Emma…
two months in, he can barely remember
a time before, has pared life back
to weekly shop, the bins, a newspaper
that yellows on the kitchen table...
I’ve had time on my hands of late (who hasn’t, eh?) and that’s brought all sorts of unexpected adventures in its wake. The house is considerably tidier and cleaner than it was when lockdown started back in what feels like…
It’s been an interesting few days. On Friday I did my first ever ‘live’ online poetry gig – yes, I know, I’m late to the party – and found that while it’s not really quite the same as standing up…
The sun’s shining, the resident blackbird is singing away, and I’m delighted to say that my poem ‘dreamtime’ has been included in Carol Ann Duffy’s #WWWAN project alongside some cracking pieces of work, all of which are responses – one…
The dog ate my homework.
I did not have sexual relations with that band, ABBA.
The dog is called Fido, er… Tyson, er… Boris, no…
Last Sunday, I finally held the launch for ‘thirty-one small acts of love and resistance’. Yes, it was online in mid-May rather than in a pub in Wolverhampton in March, but that’s part and parcel of adapting to the new…
Like Saul on the road to Damascus
when Jehovah stopped for a word and held forth
Mary Wakefield met Lord God Almighty
on the A1. In March. Heading north...
these numbers on a page
are a testament to british ingenuity
a familiar fairytale of sharp teeth
wolf as grandmother
remember people would die anyway...
Hi folks. I hope you and those you care about are all well, and keeping a safe distance from Covid-19. These are strange times we’re living in, and I’ve been doing my best to make sense of it (and keep…
Life is currently a series of small steps forward and knockbacks, but then isn’t it always? Like millions of other self-employed people I’ve seen my income dry up at a stroke as the coronavirus lockdown began, although bits and pieces…
Two hours, in, you hunger for what isn’t there,
the flesh on their bones, the life behind the names...