pandemonialists
Almost a year ago to the day, I sat down in a pub with poets Dave Pitt and Emma Purshouse and – over the course of a few pints – the three of us decided working together might be a…
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prattling on
Poetry, it has to be said, is a bit of a solo pursuit. Most of the time, you write and edit and practise alone. You share a stage with other poets, but you don’t often get to collaborate with them.…
still more bees
Two years ago, I got to see the first copies of my book ‘more bees bigger bonnets’. Two days ago, a van courier delivered the latest print run. The third one. My thanks to everyone who’s bought a copy of…
buzzing about
Everyone needs something in their life they’re passionate about. I don’t suppose it matters too much what it is – whether it’s football or painting or fishing or dancing – just as long as it’s there, as long as you’ve that…
long march
It’s gone five thirty in the evening as I write this, and it’s still light outside. Spring is coming, and it seems only right for me to celebrate these ever longer days by getting out and about. So I am.…
hairstyle, and mop
Sitting down to write this blog, I realise I’m starting 2017 on a bit of a roll. It’s a while since I’ve been on a bit of a roll, and I’m remembering how much I like it. I’m currently high…
collie-cross and the celestial squirrels
collie-cross and the celestial squirrels I walk into the downstairs room and the dog rouses himself from his bed, stretches, walks over and nuzzles my hand. “Happy New Year,” he growls. “Happy New Year. How’s the leg?” “Seems to be…
post-punk
Last weekend, I learned that putting on an exhibition is a lot of work. A lot of work. It’s also a huge amount of fun. The work comes first. More of it than you’d imagined there would be. Emails, meetings,…
punk
This website has always been the place where I post about my poetry, my gigs, and my writing. But this blog is about something I’ve put together which is a little bit different…. It probably hasn’t escaped your notice that…
in memoriam
When my grandfather moved down from Scotland to the Midlands in the ’30s, he was one of the only GPs who would offer treatment to the gypsies and travellers who still passed through the area, camping on pit bonk or…
life with a politically astute collie-cross
life with a politically astute collie-cross. “I had a strange dream last night,” says the dog, stretching and shaking himself. “Very strange. And yet…” “Go on, then,” I yawn. “What happened?” “I was working in a department store, in charge…
anthologies
Every poet has quiet times. Or do they? I don’t know. I do, I’m sure of that. Times where life is so busy I can’t find time to collect my thoughts, or the news so depressing I can’t find the…