Short

fiction

October 11, 2019

My heart is inside something. Or around everything or not separated from the shadows.

I see and feel

fingertips

Too sensitive to feel through the traffic and the

Buzz hum of the

trains rolling over or around the kitchen workers saying

"OW"   "OW!!!"

It's Saturday the city Cutlery trays never stop People

Need entertainments

Gush Gush crash crash Sick Gush

Lying across...

August 21, 2019

Brother.
I love you. Every time
I look in your eyes;
I’m looking through a mirror.
How such a resemblance is possible :
We are not brother and sister...
Not the same childhood,
Not the same blood.

It was just.
A.
Silly.
Trick. At the beginning.
To prevent people from trying to put us together...

That uncanny resemblance!
We are a couple after all. They won.
I...

August 21, 2019

It’s about this time
Time to unwind
As I wander through
I can see so much to do
But with little time
A still, peaceful find

London at the weekend
My new quiet friend
Over the zebra crossing
In my mind I sing
‘Oh Finsbury Square
What goes there?’

The flowers are bright
In contrast to the daylight
A day of clouds
The rain will come now
A pink taxi drives by
Slo...

January 21, 2019

Husband Poem

Fleeting moments fragments of feeling

But you are my constant

Sparks in the dark

And you are my constant

Lines intertwining

And you are my constant

Crossing paths

With you as my constant

Pain and passion

And here are you continually

Love and loss

And then you. My rock. Above everything else.

And yet the past still laps against the surface

A reminder of what...

August 29, 2017

Like a Republican at Marble Arch

After Nic Fiddian-Green

illuminate poles are talking

to themselves

at equidistant ends of

the same line of sight

say: whatever you like about them

they brightly pierce the blue angle-poise

of evening’s honeymoon,

surrounds and

making chat

                          among the stars...

August 28, 2017

Counselling

Waiting in the waiting room

the chairs stick together

the walls closing.
Tart, small voices are heard next-door,
the end of the Friday night radio-show,
witticisms and innuendo
and loud, captive laughter.

Finally, applause disintegrates that room,

other strident voices are raised.

That's when she pops her head in

'hello,' she says

and you smirk

foll...

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