I prise a pen into your one good hand, though even this is now a chilly claw incapable of grip; its only strength the sudden spasm, unpredictable, whose fierceness drives your nails into your palm. You cannot make your fingers understand your mind’s intent, and all those years of school are come to this; a […]
PNAutumn2009
Meeting Moon
Keith Moon, the drummer? Yes, I met him once. He topped the bill at Rag Week in our town, and played those drums with infinite panache, a crazy angel with his sticks on fire, but that was at rehearsals, early on, and only slightly drunk, his beat precise. I interviewed him in his dressing room […]
The Summoner
Given the acid from a single orange, I’ve seen you conjure electricity, […]
Exit a Princess
You had it all, they said, allure, wit, All the wealth in the world to go with it, And – so the story went – lightness of heart. We rustled our programmes, willing the play to start. But waiting in the wings were the usual rout, Trolls, ogres, genies fizzing to get out, The griefs, […]
Heroes of Our Islands
Dust jacket: faded (sun) and water stained; torn, front and back, repairs (amateur); cracked spine and wear to corners. Cover (linen) worn. Dog-eared, furring on all sides. Maps partly crayonned in and marginalia (juvenile). Some illus., black and white; defaced. Inscribed: To dearest John, to speed you in their footsteps, love from Auntie Joan, […]
Ghazal : Sister
i.m. Sylvia Rivera (d. 19 February 2002)* Drunk, she could be one ugly old sister and so, often out in the cold, Sister. And the taxi blow-jobs for straight johns were done to live, for money – not bold, Sister. But on dark winter’s nights she’d fight for young queens to be brought […]
Victor
‘True Stories of Men at War’ As fathers stroll home from work there is no birdsong and the November light is all but gone. Small boys run amok in avenues, take cover behind privet hedges – the smell of cordite, heavy in the air. Over the traffic, the sound of battle: grenades whistling […]