Jackson

Elena was someone’s daughter, sixteen or maybe older. She came for one night only. I didn’t write her face, just her hair: short slick black. Down in the Cafe Sport theatre among the smoke and poets she spoke the wish of a martyr in words of wisps of a zephyr, like a brush of palest… Read more

You’re hunched over a [ ], [ ]ing a little, [ ]ing imprecise [ ]s and picking at the world. Drinking good [ ] as we drink bad [ ]. We’re your last [ ] [ ]ing loudly trying to catch the [ ] for you conscious of our [ ]ness. First published in Edith… Read more

Rain violent on the station roof I’m half-drunk at midnight waiting for the last train Rain in my eyes, stupid black rain of goodbyes If I could wear this black coat all day all night meet eyes with a shared begin a beautiful if I could if I Cold buzz terminal air I’m half-drunk at… Read more

Commissioned 2009. This work may not be reproduced by any process, including printing, without permission. In ’59 when you were born your people named you Lee You found your way around the sun for half a century So as you taste tomorrow’s dawn, accept this wish from me: Another fifty, full of fun Now that… Read more

one gull hang-glides on the white wind, suspended from skinstretch boneframe, head, heart slung from twangy sinew strings First published in dotdotdash Read more

Commissioned 2010. This work may not be reproduced by any process, including printing, without permission. Without the voice of Richard this place won’t be the same. When cricket’s on the radio he’s following the game; when Richard’s in his comic mood the jokes are always lame; when Richard’s in his singing mood he’s got no… Read more