Category: Poetry

the Box Room

The box room was always full of dustit settled in between the pillars of assorted trunkspiles of coloured cases all stored aboardlike us children for long stretches of school term.I loved the smell of it, the grime of years penetratingdeep into wood panels and…

Honing in on the Zone

More than a door, this openingwe do not simply enter but go by the wayof wings, a jump, a tumble eventhe slip sliding launch: Gangway!and then such strangenessin upended elements; time lingers with bated breath, long enoughto catch alight in a blue flameto sink…

L’aura

I murmur. “She inspired the splendid thought Which points to heaven and teaches honest eyesAll worldly lures and winnings to despise:” Sonnet XII There is no word quite so unrealAs perfect outside paradise, for IA mortal maid full-fleshed, shall diePure skin will pock like…