What to share?

What to share? A truck on the High Road Is a rumble away. Fresh breeze, cold noise, morning cloud. A white morning is smaller than usual. Less time. The garden’s recovering, sucking the soil. Where is the water? 26/08/2018 — This almost early autumn morning was probably the opposite of today. Today, outside, the sky

A near proximity to the far off poem

I suspect that “Screens” is one of those atmospheric poems that evokes interesting images, but by the end of it the reader isn’t quite sure what it was all about. Here’s how I see it: The poem sets forward how our days are filled with noise and rushing. Simultaneously we seek escape in parallel realms and our imagination. We

Trapped Items

The sweaty gym clothes yelled in the tog bag, m8t$er f%$*er could the day get any worse? But in the Zara and Topshop bags, short summer dresses from the 50% off rack just giggled at the hope of seeing sun. The backpack lugging the laptop for an evening of more work simply sighed. Weary would

Past Euston, 09:50

37 of us shuttled along as we sit or stand with our regular doors. They are the ones with which we enter Thursday morning in Zone 1. They are the ones where we could change here for Victoria Line. Too late to exit for Morden via Bank. Your regular doors can be dangerous. You could

Another Tube Poem: Tunnel Days

They who serve the suction of daybreak, beneath the earth, beneath the dew, beneath the kitchens where there’s burning toast and grapefruit, bury, with the morning light, their hope of hearing birdsong. — My commuting is less than a tenth of many who live and work in London. But when I am on the move,

Every morning, because it’s wonderful to watch

scrumpled dashes dots and lines between the tracks 09:33 2 mins until the train arrives for Kennington via Charing + On the tracks far from my reach the scrumpled ball of paper speaks: I am a poem between the tracks. — I am quite conscientious about dating my scribbles and working notes. It is a

Screens

Today latticed with songs and compound triple time. Hung other times (such as late at night) with green-scaled dragons, golden bridges, tilted bonsai trunks. More often stretched across with traffic; the commuter’s weave of fumes and crush.   From a vantage point above the screen, ideally the viewing platform on the super moon, we may