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South Main Street, Memphis TN
531 South Main StreetPineapple cider and a burgerCome back tomorrowWe don’t close ‘til after twoI had been to the Lorraine MotelRead the storiesSeen the roomSuch injustice when all MLK wantedWas justice for people of colour tooI left that place tearful angryAt what had gone beforeStumbled into Ernestine + Hazel’sNeeding some foodCame out filled with hopeErnestine →
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Two Sides to Every Scoreline
Football in the libraryA concept so ridiculous it’s ridiculous. You imply the atmosphere today is subdued, but who thinks football in a library would be possible without uproar?You’re supposed to be at homeReally? Not here on the terrace?That would leave us open to a charge of being fickle.Where were you when you were (rubbish)?Do you →
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Blue Mountain Bells
Have you heard the bell bird sing?It fills the forest with its ringWhere the lyre bird scrapes and bowsThe bell bird’s chiming fills the airMaking music for courting pairs~n.b. If you look closely, you can see a male lyre bird, with its long tail feathers bowed, in the centre of this picture, from my only →
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Along the Spit
Windblown twine hangs from rusting stakesMarking stretches of shingleand sea kaleAround al fresco nesting groundsRinged plovers, curlews, ternsPipers all, greet dusk and dawnPlaintive whistling cutting throughThe worst the North Sea hurls ashoreBut there’s nothing sweetTo be heardNot breakersNot ascending larksWhen jet fighters’ shadows are cast~n.b. NaPoWriMo 2025 Day 23. The RAF base at Marsham sends →
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on Ukraine
the killer declares “Truce”(for it is EasterOrthodox or not)while re-loading every last guna python tightens its gripat every exhalation of its prey~ CLP 22/04/2025 →
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Eyes Opened
A flat square of greyed, corner- curled plywoodNailed to the end of a thick poleStaked into the herb bedDiced bacon, toast crumbsMorsel of old appleSeeds, pieces of nutA shard of coconut hung by stringWarm in teddy print pyjamasFace still pillow-creasedI watch them feed as I eatAutumn chill,Folded into school uniform (again)Lying on my backOn the →
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Winners
In this postcode people don’t need to enterThe National LotteryThe Euromillions drawEl GrossoThey’ve already won enoughIn life’s bingo, They have ticked off the numbers on the cardWealthy parentsPrivate educationIntroductions and referencesInherited propertyLand in trustTips and winks on sharesThey started off a few rungs up the ladderSo take great careTo avoid treading on snakesPrevent snakes getting →
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What Brought Us Here
We sit hereOn a memorial benchBeneath the line of ancient beechThat stands strong along the ridgeWhat brought us hereChoices? Fate?Buzzards spiral high aboveFinding lift upon a thermalOne, then two, a third appearsTheir cries pierce April’s shocking blueWhile they scour the farm belowFor rabbit, toad, mouse, small fowlWe sit and watchWithout a wordKnowing nothingOf the life →
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Misunderstanding Blues
The mortician stood by the slabRed-eyed from working lateThe mortician looked so wearyShe had been called up from her bedIt was the witching hourWhen she was called out by the sergeant on the caseI drove until first light in my VolkswagenI’d had a call from the local policeThrough icy fog I drove that vehicleWithout stopping →
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First Bus Out of St Louis
I am the passengerAnd I cry and I cryI cry through the day’s black sideI see the last bars pour out at fiveYeah, when neon lights the skyYou know when nothing looks rightI am the passengerI’ve emptied my last glassI look into your soul, absence of lightI see the bars kick out at fiveI see →
Journey of Words 