REVIEW: Northanger Abbey – Jane Austen
Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen My rating: 5 of 5 stars I love Austen. Her wit and wry humour is something I have enjoyed immensely for a number of years. Knowing her other novels well, this one does have a slightly different atmosphere and tone at moments. For the first half of the book, it feels very much like a standard Austen, a witty comedy … Continue reading REVIEW: Northanger Abbey – Jane Austen
Poet On Pop: Saturday Night by Whigfield
Dee Dee na nah nah nah naaaah! I have long been a lover of a Scandinavian bop with a melancholic streak. Searching back in my history, Saturday Night may have been one of the first that I truly loved. It’s not just the catchy beats and the repetitive lyrics, it was the simplistic (but oddly iconic) video and the incredibly involved and energetic dance routine … Continue reading Poet On Pop: Saturday Night by Whigfield
Lunch Poems by Frank O’Hara: 1. Music
“I am naked as a tablecloth, my nerves humming” I walk up and down Tottenham Court Road finding lunch options slim. I discover when I arrive at a usually dependable last resort lunch spot that the whole shop has been gutted, emptied, even the sign taken off the outside. Peering inside, I press my face to the glass like a nosy child. … Continue reading Lunch Poems by Frank O’Hara: 1. Music
House Keys in Porridge Magazine
My poem “House Keys” was recently featured in Porridge Magazine. Porridge post interesting work with accompanying visual art and I feel like the match of this poem with a Jackson Pollock painting is perfect. Here’s a link Continue reading House Keys in Porridge Magazine
Poem: Behind the British Museum
Behind the British Museum The road is closed on Montague Place and a mobile crane has been engaged to sift through the contents of the lorry and hoist up particular blondewood boxes. Anonymous, they sail upward with a slow spin steadied by the neon orange safety straps. Bodies inside bandages inside caskets inside boxes, the artefacts return. Continue reading Poem: Behind the British Museum
Poem: Ex
Ex In time the standing water on the upside down mugs on the draining board will be gone, left to the atmosphere imperceptibly This poem appeared in a visual form on twitter here Continue reading Poem: Ex
Poem: Things I Miss
Things I Miss I The tug of another planet and that fraught approach across the empty. II Just when each thing has an equal answer and forces rest on a fair zero. III Being earthbound and whispering to him the secret to the science of falling. Continue reading Poem: Things I Miss
Poem: why I’m scared to let go of the papers
why I’m scared to let go of the papers A folded boarding card from a flight long completed. The train ticket from the airport into Stockholm central station a stream of small print in Swedish. Suddenly: the clacking of the departure boards. How the American came up to me pointing in his guidebook and I watched him smile as I told him directions to Sergels … Continue reading Poem: why I’m scared to let go of the papers
Poem: The Way Queenie Smokes
The Way Queenie Smokes Bunched up in the front of the white van he smirks tapping the cigarette, loosening ash out of the slit in the window, onto the road. Smoking is his excuse for delicacy. His long fingers are allowed extension, his wrists can move with grace. Still stained from the day on site. He sits dishing the goss about Alan’s failed affair and … Continue reading Poem: The Way Queenie Smokes
Yes, I am still wild for Breath of the Wild
In the rain, I swoop down on my paraglider, line myself up directly above the giant ogre, then I plummet downwards, thrusting the sword into the ogre’s ugly head. This woke him up. After battling for a few minutes, shooting arrows into his one big eye, he dies and leaves me a cache of very good weapons (also some toenails), which I collect. Walking … Continue reading Yes, I am still wild for Breath of the Wild
