In a parish church in Sheffield, a barn of a building, so spacious inside, looking at a stained glass window my eyes are drawn to a dedication and not the image. The size of the building and an imagined small congregation brings to me how short a time has elapsed between the grand schemes of …
Category archives: poetry
the biro, bottle, foil and fag ash
This is a crackpipe belonging to a friend of a friend of friend [Fofafoaf]. A piece of tin foil covering the top of the bottle would have a bed of cigarette ash placed in it, the crack sitting on top and the smoke drawn through it. Fofafoaf says he really likes it a lot, it …
in permanance
Sitting in a café on the high street, looking out across the road I suddenly notice a young woman standing in a telephone kiosk, still while people on the street pass by. I realise she runs the stall selling hats and scarves. Her stillness surprises me, emphasising how busy I am, how busy we often …