Category: Writing

Her Boots

Her boots, and her laces tethered, and her shawl sloppy around tired shoulders. Always a sequence, always the same, but not today. In the distance, a frozen lake. …

Swallows

They move and glide in droves outside the passage brothel, through the alleyway, to their mud nests. He watches her floral skirt, twenty minutes – how she lingers …

Triptych

three sons of Uusimaa washed upon a foreign shore. the first shrugged and grunted and planted himself fast and there toiled to build a house rooted in worldly …

Volta

she’s charming software so exquisitely written each byte perfected mark you her plugins are tough to strip from my registry   Martin Ricardo-Jones

The Salty Dog

That beautiful, blue gas, up it a notch and make it hot, let them dance erratically on a cushion of searing oil. Demon capers, pompous anchovies, salty dogs, …

Christmas Day

His nine year old loved the nursery, and climbing trees and her books. History and flowers and trains – And she loved her father. And he thought of her as he buffed his black …

Persephone

Otherworld child emerging restored to set a gentle lingering squeeze on leg or arm. And so it begins: The way you clear food from your teeth with your …

The Steaming Beast

Spring has sprung, and new blossoms burst. Hungered by the lack of fuel, the compost heap beckons from across the garden, angry steam rising from its core of …

The Snuff Box

He dressed eccentrically at the most – striped trousers and a top hat bowler. And a long coat and gaudy shirt. His eyeglasses would swing on a chain, …

The Hi-Hat Solo

Foot pedal and cymbals, the beat, the kettle drum, and the girl and the hi-hat solo. Good looking men watch her deliver from the shadows. Are you Jack? …

Oil on Canvas

My fingers touch dry strokes from a brush on a canvas from last year. So delicately you worked that piece. The landscape – brilliant greens and soft browns, …

The East End

Stilettos and hard black shoes, clack-clack, they walk the Christmas pavement. City dwellers and workers rushing to the tube, or pubs for warmth and bitters and peanuts in …

Rafters

Taut line of thin manila, rope creaking, on dusty rafters swinging. In your shame. Forty years of dead weight, then like a pendulum still. It was three days …

Little Bird

I watched you die, little bird, how you squirmed, the crazy cat plucking you gracefully from your aborted flight, crimson spurting, eyes rolling loosely as you slipped into …

Solstice

What brittle, keening wind is this that stings our ears and dulls the fingers? The coachman of the foulest season whose kiss lingers on bloodless, frigid lips. We’ll …

Escort Services

Amplified sounds from a short-circuiting buzzer echo through a quiet hallway; a salvo of bursts ringing out into the lonely darkness. She’s on time – the primal craving of love and want racing headlong towards …

Antiquities

Pastel shades, gold and scarlet, splendid in the evening light, the cleanest shades. The room, largely decorative with plumes of grey and black and blue. They called it …

The Line Dance

Clothes pegs: in a line, on a line. Little dancing people moving to and fro, backwards and forwards, this way and that. Elegant and charming, graceful in silk …

Atop Craigendarroch

I stitched and capered a sinuous ascent through the ferns and treacherous granite traps sharp as you like Knavish roots and vines snatching all the way at my …

My waitress Mary

[For Kari Jeppesen] – Johnny Cash on the Jukebox – Walk the Line. In a truck stop with bloodshot eyes, and all-night drivers, and builders in blue jeans …

The Night Watchman

The brothel was cold, and the numbness of her panting, was cold, but inviting – Unhappiness and self-pity. And then asleep, her snoring pleasurable, gentle in the murky …

St Augustine’s

Marked cards and letters, filling the top drawer in a polished credenza. Two years, correspondence and poems and notes of love and want. He remembered the gate to …

Photo Albums

The pictures taught him respectability. One of a young Jewish girl, with tattered stripes and the yellow ‘Judenstern’. Another of broken bones and ash cloud plumes above chimney …

Your Last Orbit

Did you just die, I can’t hear you anymore. Frantic, out of control, you buzzed your last while trying to escape, the blinding light that tempts you to …

Broken Homes

It’s not easy avoiding them, on a dark path, in the early morning. Try in vain, the lack of light, but it all ends in tears. Hidden shapes, …

Page 33

Women seeking men. Blue font on dirty paper, the Classifieds. Wanted – Good looking, well built man to make gorgeous blonde, 29, happy again. Tina, Mandy, Brandi or …

Uncle Patrick

In a dirty, dingy dive, in a dire haze of old memories, I sit with Uncle Patrick; dead quiet as always with a Campari and Soda to soothe …

From Zerbst

Across the Russian wastes towards Leningrad and Moscow. Across the flats, the galloping horses thunder on, the Empress pressing with God-Speed from Riga before the snow and fur …

The Night Veld

Outside on a spread of lawn, behind the fishpond. Dinner with Grandfather. Tender pepper thighs and a splash of water, a table of reminded wisdom. Pockets of cropped …

The Drought

Perverse drought, powerless, swelling in your barns. Fruit and produce, blight and mildew. And on the land, the cattle fall. Frustration, sworn to soil and dust, the sand …

Barton Road

On a Sunday, in the early evening.I hear them, screaming.I’m looking through hedgerows, through blossoms, purples and pinks and orange. His hands around her throat,her hand in the …

Columbus

A calm expanse, the body, broken and still, floating, an immense surface, vast and mighty. No alliance between man and ocean. Jack Brewis

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