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Plants
Complications
This essay from Jack Underwood blew me away, because he nails down thoughts I've had before but have struggled to put into words. He describes poetry as a necessary counterpoint to the simplification of stories we are being fed today:
Evening
Night falls so quickly
it breaks apart on impact.
Dark shrapnel scatters.
Roots
Inhale
The clarity of winter
Shore
On the radio
I was very lucky to have a poem on BBC Radio Bristol's Upload show. The poem is called Encrypted and was written for Tonic, which is an amazing night. You get given a prompt and you have a month to write a piece for it.
Assorted news and links
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Theres a new poem of mine up on Fevers of the Mind. Its called Failed Hypothesis, go here to read it.
Sirens
Just before the door swung open, Amber was certain she could hear voices. When she walked into the small office, they had lapsed into silence. It had sounded like Tom. Great. He was meant to be the only friendly one. He sat at his desk, pretending to concentrate on work, music on as usual. Derek and Robyn ignored her as well. All three of them wore headphones, lost in their own world. Amber shuffled over to her desk, clutching her cup of tea, trying to ignore the tension in the room and failing. She wasn’t paranoid any more, she was certain.