i come home late like a man like a stranger // zebra-headed & foreign & sit  down at the table to write poems cos i want to ...

" I read of women who have been found disregarding class, the heavy book Bearing the sombre tone, we anyway tremble whilst we are brok...

of all the things i thought i’d miss i didn’t think i’d miss the snow or you bounding down the road toward me panting like a hun...

If I don’t see you tonight I might die on Old Street, on New Change at the old dyke bar in Centrepoint or knee-deep in the marshes...

the way she bends: like a sailor, as luck would have it. & i am lucky. on television the starship troops are marching up to...

why is everybody always writing about fucking like me the more writing to be done the less time to do the necessary fucking for poetry ...