The Desert

– * –

backs to the wind

fell-ponies thirst watching

water blow as sand

– * –

across the fell-side

frost over ice hisses:

“deny even the roots!”

– * –

through frosted windows

even puddles are hollow


– * –

from shivering winds

insulated – the white hill

below its blanket

– * –


The Modern Way

I dwell in possibilities,
frequently focussing
the do-it-yourself scholar,
the original story
the man I visited –
I know a man …

There is a word –
where I was treated,
may the silence break –
I look forward to being
away with the fairies,
in a secure ward,
a friend-list;
no peace of mind,
second prize in friendly street –
a PHD dissertation –
the Commonplace Book
poetry season opens with a bang
I’ll never get to sleep
no flowers on the Psych Ward
still time to enroll –
fill the refugee camps!
One last immersion –
mis-representation –
back into it:
an excellent defence!