December 2009
8 posts
Ode
An ode to your mouth.
I put my finger up to your mouth as if I were saying
be quiet. But they part and clasp around my little finger,
just the very end. I like this segment of fruit.
A muscle above your top lip, twitches.
I take my finger away and approach again.
The muscle twitches and my heart parts.
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An ode to the snowy garden.
White falls between wooden slats of blinds.
It is three...
Love it
Boyce: Can I have it back now?
Dr Statham: What?
Boyce: Can I have it back please? My potty putty.
Dr Statham: Well, I daresay you can, you’re a big strong boy. And I have no doubt that if I were to hand it over to you, you would be able to hold it and therefore have it in your possession.
Boyce: May. May I have my potty putty back please?
Dr Statham: Sure. There you go.
Boyce: Thankyou.
Dr...
Final draft of recent short story
Five Pence
The queen’s face continues to smile proudly as the rain pounds onto her head. Her motionless profile set with one, unblinking eye shines grimly as one drop rolls violently across her crown. Here she sits, in the mud and the gravel of a driveway in front of a small suburban house for six nights and six days. A small disk of the sky, twelve hours black, twelve hours blue.
Then, just...
I'm bringing the present tense back!
