Creative Writing: don’t be afraid of the dark

Summer ends, days get shorter, the world spins round, knitted gloves, school doors unlocked, chunky socks, streetlights at five o’clock. Somebody told me that when summer ends, the days...
Wikimedia Commons, alipourvaghour

I Can’t Watch Inception Anymore

I have written about JJ before, and I’ve spoken about him too. In public, at an open mic night. I thought that would have...
Photo by Hugo Douglas-Deane

Lightmare

In your rays of light, - Halos, halos, hello - Your shadow, Your fruitfulness, Your lime of every light… In your company!   I look for crevices or cracks In your existence -...

Birdsong

Like a swallow in May she felt at home, Yet knew that both her past and future lay Five thousand miles or more away.

Creative Writing: Narcissus, or lies about desire

Looking at him, I didn’t know if I wanted to fuck him or borrow his clothes; he wore them like his own skin, as...
Hugo Douglas-Deane

Of that society

of fish-scaled rooftops, of houses as gold, of rusty shopfronts, of tattooed buildings, of matte surroundings, of retail mayhem in Christmas, of customers hanging their clothes...