He makes of her his kingdom, knows nothing else but her milk flowing for him: the flick of her tongue interrupting sleep. It's only when...

As soon as the old dog is dead, we pull a plant over to where his bed has been. But that is not enough. So we pair it with a card table...

If there is a temple, it is under our eaves, the altar made of sheets and you the feast. If there is sacrament, it is the ritual kiss on...

The trees applaud the finish of the first act The night is excited She stretches arms skywards Spreads her fingers wide like starfish...

The Zoom doctor saw how I had ripped out my stomach by sticking my fist down my throat. He wasn’t surprised. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&...

The shadows he’d seen did not darken the days that he'd helped with our wellies, lifted us up over dykes and stiles and carried doll's...

In Gillingham Park, nothing is really wrong. There is a slow dance of sycamore leaves in burnt orange and falling greens. Even the dog...

Metallic bonding occurs between the atoms of metal elements. The outer electrons are free to move. This produces an electrostatic force...

trouble travels on many winds and snags itself in sunshine hair This morning, after the phone call from my mum, I try to reach the girl,...

I didn’t know her long - met her first in Chatham Library, pleased to be paid as poets, with ten minutes, supporting John McCullough. The...

My grandad (on my mum’s side): 1. puked on my grandma, sat beside him on The Speedway, rising and falling in stomach-churning...

Log Pile oak and silver birch Feet bare Fig Tree unplanted...

This is not the job she dreamt of: boiling lobsters in pots for the loud-mouthed elite - the bigoted champagne strawberry crowd. She...

Do you have to go? Elsie asks. Iris is sat, not nibbling on marmite toast. It’s good for us. It’s good for you that we’re in love. No,...

You suck in smoke like something beautiful is trapped and then released. I want that part of you. I want the tobacco kiss that stirs...

Take a slice of cereal box and rust brown paint, sloshed on ridged white. Take clay and slip and a sharpish knife. Blend the Medway sound...

There is carbon and protein and the harsh taste of iron, the push and the pull of the spinning electrons to get to the core with the...

Three hundred children, brim full of poetry’ are shuffled from the library: a whispered threat to their security (just enough to suggest...

Words, like birds in a bent iron cage, fight for space.

Just left of darkness, our soon sleeping shapes are licked by night’s blank face.