(14) Outside my window, a trawler courses through the ocean, too unconscionably near, electronically pursuing the depths, fraying invisib...

(13) (a Joyce-mix, for Bloomsday) his eyes were red when his father died and it makes your lips pale yellow expensive drinks those staged...

(12) i.m. rhys here you are, with your raspy-skinned hands and your body, lips needing balm, right at my feet, you, arriving via a wave a...

(11) i.m. George Floyd On the dead man’s chest go the loud red stains. Threads, hundreds of talk-talks. Truth always comes after death. A...

(10) Ambling down the lane to give the beach a sniff; hi's to five, and I love them all – the fella chatting to his dog, his dog, the oth...

(9) Tide is in, all I see is water. Possession is nine responses to what? A prick of a guy does a 200-mile trip to share it. How do you j...

(8) In the space between the termite-riddled wall and the draughty rafters on a faraway farm, when I was four coiled an invisible threat ...

(7) The hearse driver accelerates, whips clear of the potholes, and the sedate procession is forced to chase after him, dipping and weavi...

(6) The desert is a flat stretch, colour-faded. We’re location-scouting on a road that tastes of direction. There is beauty in all this a...

(5) What the Man-Moth fears most he must do. –Elizabeth Bishop Today my son is going, with a sword in his hand, to slay the spiny monster...

(4) I was sort of adrift. Extremely strict and fully compliant, like footprints. The runners are apparently huge. Backlogs bite the crust...

(3) Either that or I’m a boat. Usually I feel whoosh. Cut down the bookcase, bottles of whiskey. That’s how a car drives down here, very w...

(2) In the long grasslands, a secretary bird, all flap and stumble. What you gonna do today? Huh? Heaves legs of wood and wings of sail— ...

(1) In Dublin today, my boy looked out of his window; a skewbald horse in the street, being given a wash down. In the cul-de-sac at the e...