last rites

Patrick Duggan is dead. Pat. Queen’s Scout. Moustached. Flat cap. Always in order. Ready. I’ve been over contemplating death these past few days and I seem to have landed one big like a fish. He was found by his friend Norma on the bathroom floor and Saskia rushed over and pumped his heart until the […]

pathos

How easy is melancholy to revive Just now by it’s absence I recalled finding the yellow archangel On a lane in a wood in Berkshire when I was young Which too is facile to evince The sense of being old that comes with age and fatigue I spend time on the edge of tears I […]

Tall orders

We are overblown thinkers Properly moved by logic Those of us that think in this way Using thought to regulate a sorry route Following white lines catching cats eyes Refueled along the way A road just to get some where Somehow oblivious to suffering Despite everything that has happened It is a soul less task […]