Poems
Goodman’s Garden
Where did they all go? Thickets of love and pain rustle in a dry light and skeins of corvidae traipse…
Goodman’s Garden
Where did they all go? Thickets of love and pain rustle in a dry light and skeins of corvidae traipse…
Goodman’s Garden
Where did they all go? Thickets of love and pain rustle in a dry light and skeins of corvidae traipse…
Autumn Shades
They start to say autumnal in the forecasts, And on the Northern Line the shifting panels Look bleached already. I…
To my father, solicitor to the landed gentry
If you were still alive You would be ninety-six tomorrow. I think of you most days. Just now, for example,…
Autumn Shades
They start to say autumnal in the forecasts, And on the Northern Line the shifting panels Look bleached already. I…
To my father, solicitor to the landed gentry
If you were still alive You would be ninety-six tomorrow. I think of you most days. Just now, for example,…
To my father, solicitor to the landed gentry
If you were still alive You would be ninety-six tomorrow. I think of you most days. Just now, for example,…
The Irony of Wislava Szymborska
In London, I remember the indignation. Surely the Nobel prize should have gone to Zbigniew Herbert, the Polish poet we…
The Irony of Wislava Szymborska
In London, I remember the indignation. Surely the Nobel prize should have gone to Zbigniew Herbert, the Polish poet we…
The Irony of Wislava Szymborska
In London, I remember the indignation. Surely the Nobel prize should have gone to Zbigniew Herbert, the Polish poet we…
History Parade
We left the Scout hut shortly after dark, to ambush regulars acting as invaders. Later, there was to be a…
History Parade
We left the Scout hut shortly after dark, to ambush regulars acting as invaders. Later, there was to be a…
History Parade
We left the Scout hut shortly after dark, to ambush regulars acting as invaders. Later, there was to be a…
The Afterlives of the Anarchists
Those staples in their foursquare silver strips Stacked upwards like some brutalist Manhattan office block Were teased apart by fingertips…
The Afterlives of the Anarchists
Those staples in their foursquare silver strips Stacked upwards like some brutalist Manhattan office block Were teased apart by fingertips…
The Afterlives of the Anarchists
Those staples in their foursquare silver strips Stacked upwards like some brutalist Manhattan office block Were teased apart by fingertips…
Values
The final way we’re held to account is the standing order we never chose. To whatever our lives might amount,…
Values
The final way we’re held to account is the standing order we never chose. To whatever our lives might amount,…
Values
The final way we’re held to account is the standing order we never chose. To whatever our lives might amount,…
Mynheer Wouwermans
From the long ride, fresh trees licked by enough blue light to cross-patch antique trousers, we come at last past…
Mynheer Wouwermans
From the long ride, fresh trees licked by enough blue light to cross-patch antique trousers, we come at last past…
Mynheer Wouwermans
From the long ride, fresh trees licked by enough blue light to cross-patch antique trousers, we come at last past…
Out of Reach
Think of a hand-slip, a spun summit bothered by mist, the whirr and thrum of dark metals, a stranded face…
Left
Who is there left that you can talk to? Days go by. ‘Friendless, deserted’ (The Beggar’s Opera?) — left in…
