<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The warders drag you off, then life dissolves
to mists of butterflying in and out of druggy dreams,
framed by rumbling slams of roller doors in vans,
until you surface here, and wish you hadn\u2019t.
The days in hell are longer than the nights
are longer than the days. Eternity plods on
in steel and rough cement, guards jangle up and down
the corridors years pass snow falls.
No trials, no judges, no appeals.
Despair drops in at night while sanity\u2019s off-shift,
lops one or two at random,
never those who ask.
My pelt\u2019s a rotten yellow
from sleeping every night on filthy stone.
Just tell me what I did tell me
what I did.
<\/pre>\n\n\n\nPublished in To Make Us Real: Winning Poems from the Winchester Prize Anthology, <\/em>2024<\/h4>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
The Dictator Expounds on the Cultivation of Fruit Trees<\/h3>\n\n\n\nBefore they take you on as gardener,
cultivate the trees with care, seek
their support, eat the fruit they give,
drink the juice to make you strong.
When you get the job, patrol the orchard,
wave the loppers, brandish secateurs
and saws, just enough
to make them think.
Keep them neat. Trim off extra growth,
abolish adventitious shoots, chop
whatever spoils the uniformity
of all your ordered rows.
If you dislike lemons, rip
them off, but never compost them
until they\u2019re squeezed down
to the last pip.
Obstinate trees must go.
Keep an axe at all times
under the bed. Let Sycamore Gap
be your friend.
Brick walls and barbed wire
will keep the orchard free
from windblown wildflower seeds
and stop the trees from wandering.
I\u2019m sorry to have left so suddenly
for Cuba, and I assure you that my mansion,
private plane and yacht are necessary
for social, leisure and alcoholic purposes.
I enjoyed the gardening while it lasted
but if I ever had to do it again,
I\u2019d remember that chopping off the flowers
is in the end a fruitless enterprise.
<\/pre>\n\n\n\nOne of the winning poems in The Poetry Archive WordView 2025 Competition. <\/h4>\n\n\n\n
See: https:\/\/poetryarchive.org\/collections\/poetry-archive-now-wordview-2025-winners\/<\/a><\/h4>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
Siege<\/h3>\n\n\n\n
The postman\u2019s lobster hands
clack letters though the box
sharp words with fierce serifs
I flush them down the loo
to cleanse and blunt them
into shining mackerel
I know the phone\u2019s tricks
screaming at all hours
like a plastic weasel
speaking with the voice of a man
saying he\u2019s a psychologist
wanting just a little word
he can tangle in his tripwires
which I know not to answer
that fixes him
the door shakes with rage
against the men in chequered hats
who say they\u2019re police
come out they say
it has to end
and it will
when the last can of tuna
runs out.
<\/pre>\n\n\n\nPublished in The Hippocrates Prize Anthology, <\/em>2024<\/h4>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
Outfoxed<\/h3>\n\n\n\n
There\u2019s a jester capering on the lawn,
flashing white and orange motley
at the sun.
Loki, Harlequin, jackanape, he flounces
his brush, struts on two legs,
waltzes tenderly with a dead rat.
At his desk in the shrubbery
he scribbles elegies for chickens, dreams
of a pamphlet with Foxy and Foxier.
Turns out he\u2019s published everywhere:
a foxtrot track of paws denting
the douce gravel,
skittled bottles on a concrete doorstep,
ravaged bins splayed across the pavement
and all around, that scent of musk.
Coming home tonight, my senses
sharpened up to needle tips, I see my house,
alien in the purple sunset;
the desk lamp\u2019s shining in the study,
my ears prick out the tapping of a keyboard;
in the dusk, all the door locks smell brand new.
<\/pre>\n\n\n\nPublished in the Live Canon Anthology, <\/em>2024<\/h4>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
Private Enterprise Takes Over the NHS<\/h3>\n\n\n\n
<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
Dear client, hold the line, since all our operators
are busy at the moment. You are currently number 836
in the queue, and we hope that you\u2019ll enjoy at least eighty
replays of the Four Seasons.
If your problem is a minor one such as ingrowing toenails
or a repetition of that embarrassing rash, try again
next year; if you\u2019re imminently dying, please replace
the handset, since we\u2019ll never get to you in time.
Should you have any three of the twenty symptoms on list
B65, then drink two pints of water, and lie down with a clove
of garlic in your left ear. It won\u2019t make any difference, but it\u2019s nice
to have something to do. If you have four of these symptoms,
you\u2019re already dead, and, should you have five or more,
you\u2019re a raving hypochondriac, and should take two of the pills
marked F4 from the green bottle. In fact, swallow the lot.
Finally, please note, that in the interests of financial efficiency,
all operations will be performed by a robot
controlled by a dodgy line
from our call centre in Inverness.
Have a good day, while it lasts. We\u2019re fine.
<\/pre>\n\n\n\nPublished in The Hippocrates Prize Anthology, <\/em>2022<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Poems Polar Bear The warders drag you off, then life dissolvesto mists of butterflying in and out of druggy dreams,framed by rumbling slams of roller doors in vans,until you surface here, and wish you hadn\u2019t.The days in hell are longer than the nights are longer than the days. Eternity plods on in steel and rough …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-94","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\n
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