The lullaby

I have not left the house in days. I can hear the book pacing around upstairs, but neither of us … More

Identical pizza crusts

It has been a long day. Arriving home late and wanting nothing more than a bath and an early night, … More

The Milkmaid

The book has vanished. I don’t mean left the house, or popped out to see a friend. I mean vanished. … More

Peace offering

I have made the book a peace offering. I snuck out while it was sleeping, found my way back to … More

Lost for words

It is my turn to go out for a walk. The book has slept late, and, not for the first … More

Ordering drinks in Spanish

We are at the flat. Everything has worked out fine: the journey, our connections and now amazing sense of space. We … More

Packing to leave

‘Passport?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Flight info?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Euros?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Underpants?’ The book glares at me. ‘What do you take me for?’ ‘It … More

In the waiting room

The book has had a fall, and now we are sitting in a waiting room, waiting to be seen. This … More

Leaving the house

We have left the house. At first our walking is clumsy, comical, even. The book is three yards ahead of … More

A new poem: Sunlight

I am delighted to have a new poem, ‘Sunlight’, for my dear friend Peter Carpenter, published at The Stare’s Nest. … More

Why do it?

because of the words and because of the books because of the woman in the anorak at the swimming baths … More

A new poem: Some More Strategies for the End of the World

I am delighted to have a new poem, Some More Strategies for the End of the World, published today at … More

Going for coffee

The book and I are passing each other messages through a third party. Neither of us bothers with the niceties … More

Visiting hours

I am visiting the book. We have already been through a lot together, including the part where I killed it and … More

Lifesaving Poems: Denise Levertov’s ‘The Secret’

The Secret Two girls discover the secret of life in a sudden line of poetry. I who don’t know the … More

On writing and illness

Reading Arthur W. Frank’s astonishing At the Will of the Body  recently has given me pause to reflect on the relationship … More

Murdering my darling

I have murdered my darling. Like a bird of a certain blue vintage, it is ex, dead, kaput, finished. The … More

Another look at Lux’s ‘An Horatian Notion’

One of my personal, private highlights of last year’s Aldeburgh Poetry Festival was a Sunday morning breakfast hosted by The … More