poetry

A single spore sticks to bark, and moss grows to dampen the sound of sap rising. One false word runs down hose, and smoothly curving beauty frays to suspicion of treachery. We laughed at the wartime poster: “Loose lips sink ships!” only to learn later that a few bits make the millennium bomb.

I squished a spider the other day as she climbed away from the rubbish bin. Banana peels, folded brown and musty, apple cores and spoilt yoghurt poured over the empty cereal box that I read every morning. A man with a pump can sprayed poison around the kitchen, reaching with his long hose back behind … Continue reading Charlotte's web

A man climbs to stand in a stratospheric wind. Another scuba-dives through subterranean streams. The light at the crosswalk flashes “Don’t Start”. The world is flat. Journeys to the East yet returning from the West only prove this. The light at the crosswalk flashes “Don’t Start”. Striving cannot turn a son into a friend, or … Continue reading flatlands

You can tell a man’s age by the count of blankets like the rings of a tree that wrap around him, by the width of his bark, by the thickness of the life that will flow from his heart if you tap it.

Artillery howls from just outside the city while jets circle overhead. Buildings crumble under the bombardment. Days and nights. Tanks move forward in clouds of soot. A Russian spokesman declares, “The situation is coming under control; we will set up kitchens to feed the city.” Chechen boys in native battle dress place grenades under the … Continue reading bread and fire