Late-summer sun-drenched butterflies chase own shadows in a yellow stream   …   Hours from now a band of goldenrod rises…

sunday morning god getting turned on   …   guns misfiring neurons   …   blue monday only green bananas…

fallen leaves light darkens upside down   … space rocks the strange visitors near the entrance   … the clouds…

God has made the world as food for himself hunger being everywhere.   …   The necessity of atheism is…

silver bullet(s) where wolf whither goest thou?   …   Peter Doig’s moon a flamenco of swords flashing streetlights  …

Poetry is a potent rod for whipping society into line. … The beauty of poetry resides in its myriad of…

care home daffodils wilting beside mum’s bed   …   spring at last the hearse arrives   …   within…

Weathered faces whisper tales of wisdom written in wrinkled skin, sharing more than words ever could   …   The…

ghost moon coasts in on an alpha wave … nightlights cause poems cause cancer … plasticity green about the gills…

why I’m still here the golden fields of wheat   … after all that war a blackbird’s song still shy…