Jackson

2010 Hands—the iron quin-dents of an automaton goddess sunk in an ocean of detritus and potential her exoskeleton rusting, her nylon hair eaten by fishes —the small attrition of little mouths— her video eyes scored by salt her vinyl feet twisting and twitching, unfinned her neural nets dreaming, searching, waiting for the idea, the belief, Read more

2010 Now and again I feel a buzz in the nerves under my pubic hair, next to my thigh, low down, on the left. It buzzes periodic as if under my skin I’m wearing my phone and it’s on discreet, and someone is calling. But his phone is dead, he says. Read more

i wish i could be suzanne vega a pixie wisp with big eyes narrow bones a voice like a 2mm sable brush like her i’m left of centre on the outskirts and the fringes like her i met another spinner of strange and gauzy threads jester of the courtyard hands of raining water all of Read more

(Mattie Furphy House) It was very very dark There was a tiny crack I couldn’t tell the time I heard the trains start I woke wishing it was morning I slept in the windowless room Having many thoughts I lay awake I heard the trains and traffic start At 6am it was bright for three Read more

At Mattie Furphy House the writer-in-residence, having goodbyed the workshop poets and their unfinished pieces, At Mattie Furphy House the writer-in-residence, having opened most of the windows, At Mattie Furphy House the writer-in-residence, having arranged the furniture and books, knowing they’ll be moved by other visitors but pleased with the feel of it anyway, At Read more