An overdose of summer

Soft to the thumb, the pear I sliced was gone. It was rotten inside. In a wither of ruffles the rose-heads have browned dry in the heat. They sodden after it’s stormed. Even the blowflies ferocious have stopped their wings, landed their green torpedoes for the last time. Something from lunch churns in my stomach

Kitchen Alchemy

Preheat a deep pan of golden leaf. In a large bowl split bitter chicory. Lift out the notes that made sense at the time. Turn up the heat. When sulks and stews have almost evaporated, You will have a sweet smelling slush. Whizz to a powder, this interesting theme. Return to the pan if you

Salad with mackerel

tonight I’m gonna feed myself right from a bag with apples and the thrill of eager walnuttes that press the beetroot neat sliced nice over rocket-watercress-spinach leaves stalks ‘n all spring-water washed — Eating right is important for an artist. Even Ella Fitzegerald and Louis Armstrong advocate this in ‘Frim Fram Sauce’. In truth, though,

104 Poems

The 2×52 project developed in April 2013 when I committed to posting two poems a week for a year. I completed my self-made creative challenge this April when I revealed the 104th poem. Next month (June 2014), all the poems will be available in a book at my Blurb bookstore. In the meantime, here are the 104=2×52 poems listed in all their glory! And for your convenience, so

the currency of sugar

in glasses: wine, cocktails, liqueur, on plates as cake and biscuits from two discarded plastic tubs, a litre of ice-cream Lonely is the currency of sugar. — I’ve eaten two squares of Lindt, 70% cocoa, as I prepare this post. My head’s throbbing lightly with the sugar rush. Depeche Mode is my soundtrack, Can you

At the moment: £2

Oh, good. For now sultanas are back at 84p. (Bizarrely, they were 92p for a while.) Coffee, my favourite blend, now ONLY £2! That’s a 28p saving but coffee’s not on my list for today… Kiwi fruit – Enjoying those at the moment (since “basic apples” – I know they’re the windfall ones – have

London. Is it worth it?

A climb up Kili Only it’s Archway Hill. Destination: Highgate King prawns in chilli butter at Café Rouge – — At the end of last year I was searching for this poem amongst my papers. Although distressed at the loss of the original gem (Where is it? I kept asking on Twitter.), I attempted an

Today

Today was the Friday I ate only toast. 7 slices. 4 with honey; 3 with peanut butter a few broccoli florets raw and an anchovy from the tin. I drank green tea, black tea and one cup of coffee poured from the cafetiere. I set out to typeset a book – and now it’s worse

Let them eat

The ordinary class does not object to plastic chairs or utilitarian rooms used for multiple utilitarian purposes: pre-school, ballet lessons, Sunday School, prayer groups, a soup kitchen, evening workshops in crafts. The ordinary class bends over catered tray-lasagne seeping into paper plates balanced on knees and an insulation of paper serviettes. The ordinary class is

A quiet night preludes the festivities

‘Tis the night before I head off to find Christmas. with an inflatable bed and homemade biscuits. All through this lodging there is hardly a clatter; only Depeche Mode on my laptop and my landlady’s patter. To the front door she shuffles and hooks up the chain. Yesterday’s outside, while we’re bolted in. 22/12/13 —