When my parents spoke of time, they spoke of gig smokers and dissertations carefully written by typewriter. What relics would I inherit, we wondered: cassette tapes, a floppy disk with my name on it, the Millennium party at which I was convinced the world was ending,...
Between the furrows, I can take it off, when the storm is on the day, when the oaks are fading green, I can make myself all angles, all lollop, all grand knees, and rust-brown-fur, all twitching ears, kiss low-dusk-sky and stare in silent worship at the moon. Witch...
Paddy McGuinness comes into my bedroom at 4am and turns on the light. I turn to where my boyfriend should be but it’s not him. Instead of my boyfriend, I’m in bed with Michael Pedersen of Scottish poetry fame. Paddy McGuinness has real fame. And my...
at the tideline the surfacing sun overwhelms the horizon like an ingrown hair and a fish -erwoman i bothered proposes that the mackerel here thrive because when they see the scenery they’re compelled to make love it reminds me of a couple i’ve recently been spending...
the heidy peaty potency o the drams we drank at dawn mingles wi the gorgeous giddiness o fawin hard in luve and a dinnae ken whit’s mair intoxicatin the whisky or the wunner o it aw the glorious sunshine drouks us in wairmth and licht and embra luiks braw fae up here...
you hand it over the table I carry it towards my nose stroke the creases on its cover massage it against my own it’s as though autumn leaves shook hands with the moon pledging to hide a city under this fruit’s rind but my knife is a country cutting through the centre...
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