#EnglishWriters
We went out into the school yard together, me… whose name and face I don’t remember. We were testing… of the human voice:
We hunted, swept the planet pole t… to capture a glimpse of that rare… Through a thermal lens we spotted… picked up the trail of nuggety fae… then tagged the shiniest beast in…
He splashed down in rough seas off… I watched through a coin-op telesc… with a lollipop stick as a trawler… of the waves and ferried him back… Control on a trading estate near t…
Compiling this landmark anthology… about dogs and musical instruments… To date, I have only, “On the De… Killed by a Falling Piano,” a som… True, an Aeolian harp whispers al…
Anyone here had a go at themselves for a laugh? Anyone opened their w… with a blade in the bath? Those in… at the back, listen hard. Those at… in the know, those of us who have,…
And if it snowed and snow covered… he took a spade and tossed it to o… And always tucked his daughter up… And slippered her the one time tha… And every week he tipped up half h…
The sun comes like a head through last night’s turtleneck. A pigeon in the yard turns tail and offers me a card. Any card. From pillar to post, a pantomime
The future was a beautiful place,… Remember the full-blown balsa-wood… on public display in the Civic Ha… The ring-bound sketches, artists’… blueprints of smoked glass and tub…
Five pounds fifty in change, exact… a library card on its date of expi… A postcard stamped, unwritten, but franked, a pocket size diary slashed with a…
In later life I retired from poet… ploughed the profits into a family restaurant in the town of Holzminden, in lowe… It was small and traditional:
I have not bummed across America with only a dollar to spare, one p… of busted Levi’s and a bowie knife… I have lived with thieves in Manc… I have not padded through the Taj…
It is not through weeping, but all evening the pale blue eye on your most photogenic side has k… its own unfathomable tide. Like th… at the dyke I have been there:
Of all the public places, dear to make a scene, I’ve chosen here. Of all the doorways in the world to choose to sleep, I’ve chosen yo… I’m on the street, under the stars…
Eight-year-old sitting in Bramhal… shoes scuffed from kicking a stone… too young for a key but old enough… to walk the short mile back from s… You’ve spied your mother down in t…
I was pegging out your lime-green… you were hoping the last of the su… might sip the last few beads of dr… from its lime-green hem. I had a blister-stigmata the size…