Yesterday among other things I managed to drop extremely thick hot chocolate on the floor of a charity shop while juggling a book of poetry and reading from it. Said hot chocolate went everywhere, so I (having cleaned it up because I Ain't No Fuckin' Animal and those people are volunteers yo) bought the book by way of an apology; it is 1 poem a day ( Read more... )

So far Virgin have sent three (3) engineers. The first one (Friday) broke the internet. The second one (Monday) fixed it for an hour or two. The third one (today) didn't actually materialise; we were assured, when Lindsay went to the phone, that they were "outside" doing "external" work, and the customer service person had tried to reach them but ( Read more... )

poetrY

do nothing

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poetry

urban planning & the enclosure act
bath salts

weds: visited douglas @ his residential thingamy.
thurs: dinner with lanyon incl. first ever funnel cake
fri: antony's book signing followed by drinks
sat: opus anglicanum exhibition, walk through hyde park, accidental poetry book purchase, drinks for detitmas, brief period of dancing at g-a-y which is ( Read more... )

Poetry

Fresh stigmataPoetry usually happens - and less frequently now because of these criteria - because a phrase and a feeling collide. The phrase can pretty much set up the entire poem, but the whole thing won't work unless there's a feeling which, generally speaking, doesn't suit me to express in normal spoken prose, or which I'm not ( Read more... )

It's Trans Day of Remembrance but I have also spent most of last night drowning in lung goo, coughing, and having horrible dreams so I don't want to compound that particular misery with more sadness. I am so tired now - and Jess too, from her job - that we had no energy to fight and therefore managed Sunday lunch and clothes shopping without any ( Read more... )

Poetry

What we leave behind

PLEASE ENJOY SOME SADNESS

Poetry

Two LanguagesComposition on the bus which led to crying, subject "fairly obvious"; have struggled an entire 1100 words out on a short story over the course of a week and done no plotting but having no problems whatsoever editing other people's work (glorious distraction); roiling in self-loathing still (especially over my lack of fitness/ ( Read more... )

I whined at punkstara that I never write poems any more so here is one. It's not the one I was intending to write but it's here.

safe house