Six poems from 2012-present; ‘The Domestic’ ‘The Fox…’ and ‘A Quanta of Lines’ published in Notes Annual: One (2014), all others either published in Notes fortnightly magazine, or unpublished; ‘In-Flight Entertainment’ commended as one of the ten best for Cosmo D-H Poetry Prize in 2021.
In-Flight Entertainment 1 Over a city of raked coals, one has full dominion - in a manner of speaking. 2 Phenomena go in spirals up here - circles and tricks. For example, we are touching down once more at Gatwick, only this time, the wheels are skidding, and the original, tragic goat bleats in me: you’ve got to be kidding. 3 Zen-like, in the dim light of the fuselage - a pilot’s voice: er how long is uh a piece of string if you err splice it into itself? (A necklace for the throat of a son, or a daughter.) The stewardess goes to check. 4 I fold up my tray. 5 ... a variety of channels, you are free to tune in to all kinds of quality... flannels are hot-citrus and... 6 The sun setting, our whole journey home - it felt like forever. 7 The engine tone sinks to my recline, a passenger who plays with time as it concertinas and dilates.
The Fox Calls the Logos Sour I cannot penetrate to what it is: juicy on the vine; if I could I would squish it between my toes and press a wine. Slip the world, but in life only the words change and I am an animal, hopping forever, for grape.
The Sick Rose (Version 2.0) You may no more force the rose to open up before its day than use the image as she flies to conjure something more to say.
A Quanta of Lines I floated down a river, but it was also a lake. Linear yet spatial – O I cleft a gentle wake.
The Domestic It was a moment that tipped up the basin of his mind, spilling water down the front of his shirt. There was a ruffling in the space-time continuum, as I ran to get a paper towel. These little explosions, they dry and soak in the same fabric.
Scene from an Interior The airing clockwork of a waking dream, my head aslope the glass. I tune finer water.