He asked if I still remembered him
with a voice once flavoured with adventure
and a brush of pixel kisses.
Of course I did. Lacerated memories
of a weekend in the Yorkshire Dales
scrape skin from bruised apples
And push pins into a wilted cork.
Egotist. Even now
You circle jerk snowflakes
destined to land on desperate tongues
then melt away.
I wanted them all. Still do.
All that remains i...
His voice echoes from our office
in waves a despondent surfer
sick of seeing unsuitably
sized peaks of sound on his skyline:
the ocean of his creation.
His voice echoes from our office
alongside sighs of excited teacups
awaiting the artificial rapture
enforced for the sake of art,
creating the perfect teatime reverberation.
His voice echoes from the office
on the hour every hour.
Str...
Neither of us were up to the challenge,
the towering debris in mum’s bedroom
only made bearable by the prospect
of an evening together, avoided.
We tread carefully around the remains:
the photographs, unframed, hastily sliced
in two. Our never-ending Jenga game.
One wrong move and the room turns nuclear.
I was the big red button you couldn’t
help but press. You brought on the destruction,
an ...
Across the course of lockdown, my team and I designed a questionnaire with the intent of exploring the common phenomenon of sleep travel. In short, whether people unintentionally embark on some form of journey in their dreams and, if so, where they travel to. The purpose of our study was wholly recreational, or so we told ourselves. In hindsight, it’s clear that we were all struggling to find our ...
They say the memory
of a goldfish is just
three seconds long soon gone
one swim around the world
Atlantic Pacific
Kensington way off base
is all it takes to drown
in seas of memories
sluggishly watered down
two many backwards strokes
Atlantic Pacific
Kensington this bus route
a flotation device
fishing for weighted pasts
hours anchored in pubs
picnics bedded in parks
hands held in wai...
Our love is the distance between two stars;
to any earthy eyes, we share the sky,
(or so it seems when observed from afar)
our cosmic marriage through closeness implied.
Only rockets on their maiden voyage
could notice the straining cosmic forces:
gravity barely repairing the wreckage
Of two passing comets, scarcely in orbit.
If they knew what us burning fires fear,
being smothered in close proxim...
It’s never fashionable to be the last man at a party. The sun, with his tendency to burn the candle at both ends on the wildest of summer evenings, knows this better than anyone; his tendency to stretch his capacity for fun and merriment to its absolute limitations making him wildly unpopular among the stars, moon and murk. As always, they impatiently wait for him it leave, longing to make the sky...
Blue was the colour of the cup
filled with the icy latte that ignited our spark:
You said you preferred Starbucks to Costa Coffee.
Tartan was the pattern on the skirt that I wore
to our first date in Princes Park:
I was scared you’d think that a punk wasn’t pretty.
Strange, haven’t we changed
From those children stranded in the rain?
Has it nearly been five years already?
I would have never ex...
Before I was selected for Termination, I was content to be a compliant part of the wider Network, even if this meant I was confined to the industrial grid. Though its blank walls never bothered me, the Operators often complained that the lack of natural light and fresh air was enough to send any woman crazy. I would often watch them; how their eyes darted erratically towards the clock, their produ...
Don’t I have a right to be suspicious?
These actions aren’t suspect to you?
You act like you’ve never been officious
Each time I ask after you.
Sure, you never meant to be malicious
not answering a call or two,
but I have a right to be suspicious
when you’re with her, if only she knew.
How your heart wanders, ventures far from
home.
Please my dear, don’t leave me alone.
That thief of love w...
