A tail can be manufactured Neoprene, dragon skin silicone, urethane, flukes customised & sold to finfolk lost@sea. Staccato tweets, eyespots as strange as olives. At work the dorsal fin separates easily from the mould. The mertailor’s apprentice eats. Knife and fork reveal flesh as pink as corned beef. Afterwards, he […]
Poems
The pale pink ears are placed in diamond encrusted petri dishes and bequeathed to an Arab Sheik. The nose is delicately sliced from her face, frozen in ice, and couriered to Justin Timberlake. The shy, beautiful breasts are sold separately to the highest bidders: the left, to an astronaut who […]
A metaphor will cost. Maybe we could do business over a simile, But if you want an original one You better make sure you can afford it. I can’t offer you rhyme or reason, Because I’m bankrupt. Not just emotionally, I can’t afford the next line, My budget doesn’t cover […]
Landfall 209, 2006 ___ I read the first page of every new novel, I frothed the nozzle of a cappuccino machine badly, steam bursting out like the snort of an angry cow I dined on Weetbix laced with white sugar soaked in puddles of skim milk I […]
Landfall 205, Autumn 2003 ___ Her bones are at the bottom of the ocean They are very quiet Beautiful white bones with sandy hair stretching out into infinity Her real hair is gone Strand by dandelion strand it floated away There was a time When translucent fish nibbled on […]
Landfall 205, Autumn 2003 ___ High School taught me that blonde is the colour of bitch. Thanks for that year of torment in 1989 Libby and Elizabeth I’ll never forget your Two sets of owl-like eyes Your pastel tongued-cruelty Your thin dissolving smiles And as for you Fleur […]
Turbine, 2003 ___ There was always something a bit wanton about My Little Ponies. Their curvy plastic bodies, the colour of vibrators and slut flavoured eye shadow, ‘midnight mauve’, ‘blow job blue’, and ‘you know you want to cherry red’. They had painted on doe eyes and glitter stuck to their cheap […]
Broadsheet 3, Agenda Poetry, 2003 ___ I came to your house brick driveway full of sand the sea a black glove that reached for the shore seagulls hungry henchmen in the cold. “No plants grow here”, said the glass house. I was put in the mauve room. black cat […]