I wrote this a while back for a competition at Freeword. It got long-listed, and I got some great feedback, but I did that defeatist poet thing of hiding it away because it didn’t win and was therefore shite. Finally, I went through the judges’ comments and worked on it, hard. Here you go, it’s […]
Spine I asked my spine how it keeps me up on days like today when darkness curdles around my shoulders and begins unfurling a cloak of dumbbells and tar, letting gravity coax us to the concrete, atom by atom. Spine says nothing (it never does), re-aligns its stacking, and holds me through.
The Garden Slope (After Owen Sheers) I look through the window at her and try to understand why she exists at all. A rug for the willow roots, my once oblivion ledge, the stress of her seems petulant now. This stubbled kneecap, dark, unresponsive, uncertain of my weight. Her stretch, boyish and patchy, […]
Last night, I had the honour of being part of a turning point in the history of Peterborough’s cultural offering. Live Art exhibition ‘Wash Your Dirty Linen in Public’ opened on 11th February 2016 at City Gallery, Peterborough, and I was invited to write poems in response to the work of artists Charlotte Barlow, Penelope […]