I turn the radio on and switch it off again, unable to settle to anything. There is still no sign … More
Tag: Reading Poetry
Cooking in a Bedsitter
There is still no sign of the book. I go for a walk; it is not there. I visit our … More
The empty house
True to its word, the book has disappeared. There isn’t a trace of it in the house, not even a … More
The Half-Finished Heaven, by Tomas Tranströmer
The Half-Finished Heaven Despondency breaks off its course.Anguish breaks off its course.The vulture breaks off its flight. The eager light … More
Tracks, by Tomas Tranströmer
Tracks 2 am: moonlight. The train has stopped out in the middle of the plain. Far away, points of … More
Reading Wallace Stevens
‘I’ve been reading Wallace Stevens.’ ‘So?’ ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’ ‘I don’t get it.’ ‘Wallace Stevens!’ ‘I know who … More
Ten new poems
‘I’ve got some good news,’ the book says. ‘I’ve just written ten new poems.’ ‘Wow, that’s great,’ I say. ‘Are … More
Waving the white flag
‘It’s over,’ I say. ‘You’re always saying that, too,’ the book says. ‘Always ‘tired’, or ‘busy’, or ‘giving up’. People … More
To the Mincing Poets
Last Sunday I attended the last ever group meeting and reading of the Mincing Poets, in Exeter. A classic … More
Losing touch
‘I’m tired.’ ‘You’re always saying that.’ ‘But I am.’ ‘Really? Is that what’s really going on?’ ‘I don’t know where … More
Are you lonely?
‘Are you lonely?’ says the book. ‘Why are you asking?’ ‘Are you?’ ‘Do I look lonely?’ ‘Does it come on … More
A few days to read
and James, it’s taken me a few days to read A Few Days, but I have loved every line, especially … More
and (Dear James)
and (Dear James) it occurs to me now, just thinking out loud, that in a way Kenneth and Frank actually were … More
Open letter to James Schuyler
Dear James (may I call you James?) Though it’s been a while (at least ten years, maybe more) it feels as … More
Go-to poet?
I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the ‘poets I go back to’ idea, that I first came across in … More
Open letter: in memory of Janet Fisher
And though I only met you once, your influence on me is massive, or should that be was I don’t … More
It’s gone
‘It’s gone.’ ‘What has?’ ‘It. This. Everything.’ ‘The chair is still here. I’m still here.’ ‘I don’t mean the chair. … More
Alone, by Tomas Tranströmer
Alone I One evening in February I came near to dying here.The car skidded sideways on the ice, outon the … More