Monday, 28 November 2022


hes tall & thin
or looks tall because hes thin

& his neck is made of hollows
a deep shadow round his apple
from the 
phone stores 
heaven glare

in the shopping malls
level one coffee array


he is the colour of antiques
& his eyes are wet stones
& i see the misfires under his skin

i dont know him
but i know the look

from those hospital mornings
& the goodbye souls
on pyjama parade
& ending there

Friday, 25 November 2022



without ceremony
my old leather jacket
was retired one autumn

the heft of bottles
had really stretched 
the pockets right out
its tortured lining
was in sad disarray 

( my uniform had softened now
  into sicknote rehab chic )

leathers still soft as cream tho
only rigid as a biscuit
round its cuff sleeve holes

oh the things it has seen
& the stories it could tell !

also - the zip is fine