The Source
Matchstick Cats
Mark and Trev were surrounded on the bed of the truck by old wooden beams and bits of furniture – debris of a life that wasn’t theirs – and...
Ode to a Nearly Beloved
"As though through tracing paper, I etch your features onto faces of strangers I’ll never know."
Pink Tulips
"I want our story to be one of fields of flowers and quiet sunsets. I
do not wish for violence."
Tangerine
"Picking apart the peel of the ripest fruit, prying open its flesh."
A Love Letter to Living With Scientists/An Apology to My Housemates
'I am not sure what broke me. I think it's a close tie between the discussion around NaCl when I asked for the salt to be passed down the table or when someone genuinely asked the group what their favourite way to measure the centre of mass was.'
Drawing Attention
'I'm making mistakes
I'm crossing them out
I'm making it ugly
I'm making it shout'
Little Giveaways
"Jazz was being played over the stereo like theme music, as if they were acting in a television drama where each character had some essential trait, some crucial role."
Mother
"I waltzed in her arms down the high street"
Specks
"From a space we might call "above", an Entity watches - gargantuan, unfathomable, other."
A Quick Trip Far Away
"One summer, a summer which now seems to have passed by long ago, I slept and dreamt for the first time on the mainland."
Rules to Live By in Your New Home
"No 1. Label your collar
to avoid feeling ornamental."
21st Century Midas
"‘Look, you have drunk £3.15. You fool, that’s £3.15 you’ve eaten.’ Clink, the cup on the saucer, the coins sliding down my throat."
Uneven Sideburns
"Empty time lent shape by the weekly rites
Of chiselling the stubble away"
Four Panels and a Pen
"Find us together:
tiptoeing across the fanning pages
of a calendar."
A Story That Begins With Rain
"Under the bent thumb streetlight,
umbrella domes burst forth, splashing
rich nightfall
onto their neighbours."
Moloch 1
'Scream me into the void. I would like to be screamed into the void. Please.'
the peaches
"the table is rotting, and the house is rotting, and we are rotting too."
On First Looking into Rupi Kaur’s ‘Home Body’
'bricolage applause as spoken word verses raining down like stardust'
