23rd January 2004, late afternoon

us   here’s reaching cold-faces face our warmth
inside’s sides outlight winter   dim  candles  

cake   chocolate-selves   35 flesh years   outing
cross out   blow a wish   a flame of away

blowing for yet & death   against ritual day  
birthgrow   my children   they as growing me

am I that me to call me?   me of parts voices
you today   birth   happy voices clear their gazes  

years that flame meet breath   is it memory?
brown shine   chocolate cake   collect hope!

glints like intent blinks search intense pearls
my children gleam years   their young noses 

we count glistenings to split dark/light winter
35   I’m january!  angles stand candles   lit way


way lit candles stand   angles   january  
I’m 35   winter light/dark split by
glisten   count years   my children  
a gleam on nose   their young pearls

of intense search   blink   intent like
glint   hope collects in sweet sauce
cake   chocolate-shine   brown memory
it is here   here   as my breath meets

flames that years   go    a way   and
circle back   my children’s gazes   their
clear voices   (to you   happy birth
day to you)   voices parts of me   call

to me that I am   part of me   growing
as they grow   birth   day   ritual
against death   and yet for   a blowing
away of flame   a wish   a blow out   cross

ing out years   flesh of my children & my
35 selves   chocolate cake   candles   dim
winter light out   side   inside’s warmth from
our faces faces cold by reaching here’s us



page crinkles    black pulls    flicker    your finger traces
spaces   between leaves    white/black inside    brown door
covering book    clean & old smell    stare    a black/white
matrix wriggle    on you    into you    you    can slip into

letters    let    yourself sink beyond    crisp print into paper’s
vast deep millimetres    your light squashed    into black ink
bleeds    paper’s white nought    drips lengthening to trickle ...

... plop pluhf splat    water talk over rock    smear    like idea
of soul    water-kisses    of water on water    trickles expand
accelerate to rills    rivulets & least    resistance    clear silver   
clear gold    pools of clear distance    liquid of aim     ripples

catch eyes    and stare    back somewhere forgotten    surface
tension    deflects & lets    cuddle-waves    water wears a way   
wears a permanence of change    gleams    a constant garment
never staying    page crinkles sound pulls    black makes ...


... pools    or some rivers of other    talk traces spaces water    over
rock between leaves    water on book in water    thin garment on

ground    book-smells of clean old    wet sometimes else some

wear together can tension    cuddles with waves read    rivulets of
least resistance    wriggle in you glint of pages    of water turning

                        soaked    leaves like love indefinable



put the shape    away begin    the distance of other we
located our    place of forgotten the chosen    no place

is existing with    out us you were far    off near    to

the war    drobe tucked under the board across an ocean
list    en    to the creaking as feet approach don’t    breathe

out and the dust’s treachery    will    not swirl it is for
bidden to be    gindis    covery    in the seclusion you

may start memory loss on the other    hand    a whole house
vanished she began    by making    a map of the corner

she got bricked into the map    was intricate by following
the map she located her loss was    able   to paint & polish

it so its beauty pushed    her deeper    into the corner her
husband    never suspects the deeds of the skirtingboard

                   all yesterday    yes    to dust


she lets her hands    free they go all    up&down
unseen textures they    drag her body be    hind

as they meticulously    road rid ride    lost ground
her    nails pick at every splinter    or hiss of scurf

she just lets her whole    touch-factory prod    uce
possibilities of location the    man watching    could

not tell    what    was    happening his eyes    were
tunnels that visual info travels    down    through but

no sense could mix with    is    with his cave brain
the light of one    thought glimmers    in the cave

of him the pressure    of this light dents the deep
tangled texture of ground her    hands madly go along

her hand-pause    she feels this light    -press sure
an even & smooth    dent    tiny but distinct    ink

amongst raucous obstacles bristling against
her sweetly finger    printed probes    robes rob


she lets her hands begin    the distance we    lo
cated our place of un    seen textures the chosen no
place dragged her body without us    you    were

far and meticulously rode the lost ground off near
to the wardrobe just tucked nails    picking at every
splinter under the board across an    ocean    of scurf

she just let her whole    feet approach touch-factory
produce the man    watching could dust treachery’s
location    it is    forbidden to wear tunnels    disc

ovary in the sec    lusion you travelled through memory
loss on the other mixed    his cave brain she of one
thought gleams a whole    house vanished in the cave

of him making a map of the other pressure this light
dented beauty    pushed light pressure into the corner
tiny but distinct fingerprinted probes of    yesterday

                        ‘s skirtingboard   


it is a pink    deer like love opened then    a
yellow tree that    I say see    the white doves

of my teeth with    this    speech eat the apple
of my syllable & the    blooms    a crotch will

show when    word grows I    will be as para
Keats    perched bright in the dim vibrating

jungle of the soul’s    working    it in & working
it    out I will be    an eater of kernels’ & seeds’

tight-packed laughter    it is    spoken through
a union of pink fresh bounding past tense    & the

brown adjectives of old wolves in future what
I say    spills    viscously from my tree    -veined

lungs utterance    as paint it is moist    furls brush
(s)ing against my skin’s blind    sin until sun    dies

down into my bones & the    empty    dark is as
loud as firestorm    full    of bees breaking my

         frame with terror    ’s()able beauty


she pushed her fingers through bone    the street meshed
with one sigh    gone & broken    talk    cluttered her finger
-nails    why do you look?    spelled    across a nail and the

hammer on the casket tap    ping    out    a search she pushed
her gaze into the cave of a last    appearance    it grew thicker
with interest & smells of coinage    accumulated    in a bank

of her longing    men tried    to    prize    the doors of her idea
open    tumblers clicked locks bit    they said she’d    thrown
her jewel mouth out from her face    in    to a crowd of men &

twigs    twigs ignited men all scrabbling    to kiss    her thrown
glitter    she pushed her fingers    through    her own eye-sockets
soft eyes vanishing like gas    fingerprints    on her probing

fingers unravelling into    a hole    inside her idea    a whole   
cathedral crushed    to the size of a button    she wears this button  
on her coat her coat    is camouflaged    meant    to blend in with

five differing kinds    of love & all    seventy-seven powders of
anguish    you can hear her look whoosh through    a sky    of a
lonely man’s gaze she sneaks up with    bone fingers outstretched   

        her gas eyes unblinking    she builds    with sighs


lives in Leicestershire, where he works as a community poet in schools, with other artists, mental health service users, and Leicestershire's Open Museum. His work has been published widely on-line and on-paper. His first full-length poetry collection, entitled /Else/,  is due out from Shearsman in 2008.

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