A lil black phone with my poems in

    The Wild Boar Who Thinks I’m Being Mugged Off I. I’m just heading out, keys in one hand, dignity in the other, when a boar lumbers out f...

Minor Inconveniences  Methinks I loathe the word methinks. It juggles into sentences like a smug little jester. Tinfoil is my shining rival,...

  In like a lion Most mornings start with Baris at my door, we talk about the weather, then talk some more. A community organiser and a Turk...

“Youth Worker, apparently” They say my job is fannying around with table tennis bats, checking the chalk for the pool table, booking the min...

  Red Plastic Alchemy We lifted the seat of the red ride‑and‑go its sacred hollow our cauldron. With cupped hands, we carried rainwater,...

  British Black Bee Native British bee - adapted to fickle skies. Hardy through winter - needs less food and thrives with change. Save nativ...

Gina Wants to Die of Old Age I can’t hear Bon Jovi without being seventeen again, singing, “Gina wants to die of old age,” l...