One And One

Lost in their own kaleidoscope of context, they regard each other with a suspicious eye. Curious, and aware of difference and distance.

Checking out each other’s innovations, reluctant to concede the ground.

One receives the baton, wholly unaware, the other passes it on, with regret. And not a little envy, whispering “Good luck,” before they ride away, in their opposite directions.



One last return to that coastal town, and the rain drove in from the Irish Sea, the October wind triumphing in gusts. Sheltered within our crawling car, we witnessed the season stamp its seal through a conquering night, barely held at bay by faltering, neon light. The streets were swept clear, the waves threatened to swamp.

We bid our farewell for the year. The dark rejoiced.



When Write Is Wrong

The same thing happens every time. Whenever I find myself in Waterstones, when I’m not there to pick up anything in particular but just to lose myself amongst the shelves, I pick up a fiction book, read a few lines, and think to myself, ‘I need to start writing.’ Then, in comparing, I realise that my writing is affected, full of pretension and hyperbole.

In contrast, these lines that I read are not fleshy but stark and sparing, dragged out from the marrow and offered up for the cardinals to kiss.

See, there I go again.

St. Mary’s Snows

St. Mary’s Snows

Christ on the cross
in a swirling maelstrom.

whirling dervishes
spinning immaculate
washing line 

gathering up blind children
in night's under-wing,
talons flexed,
stripping veiling rags
from the bright

Wild revenants flee
the howling smoke-rings 
of dilating eyes,

quickly absolving me
of my mundanity
in this Roman Catholic reverie.

Suddenly, suddenly.


Bite Size

I spotted this on Facebook, in a neat little moment of synchronicity. I’ve just started reading Skarlet, which is the first of Thomas Emson’s Vampire Trinity series, and I’ve also been enjoying The Strain on tv. I really don’t know how I sleep at night.

Your little bit of escapism doesn’t always have to be highbrow, you know.

Anyway, have a great Friday evening people. Don’t go too heavy on the garlic.