July 26, 2017

Merry Widow

And then, one day, he was gone. And all his tubes were gone, and his tissues, And his petulant but forgivable demands. And she could clean behind his chair: Cobwebs, dropped spoons, creased and ancient magazines. She could go off … Continue reading

June 30, 2017


There’s pain behind those vacant eyes As brick by brick the walls come down Their guts spewed out and packed away To empty shops across the town. Ragged doorways, toothless screaming Barred by scaffold, gagged by tarp. Urban renewal rips … Continue reading

June 24, 2017

Oh, Jeremy Corbyn

from The Mask of Anarchy, by Percy Bysshe Shelley ‘Rise like Lions after slumber In unvanquishable number— Shake your chains to earth like dew Which in sleep had fallen on you— Ye are many—they are few.’