Stuck in a yellowed silence then simply stuck one post-catastrophe. Loves, leaves, that which was come apart in between. Colours now darker. Landscape other. Which worlds unsung which ones to come in that expanse the singular bloom: you: committed cadence of undoing. Some afternoons a wash of Flemish light flame-lined they flared across the iron […]

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[…] There in his place on the pavement all his faces frozen in the back there begin to come, in the last golden light between andante and adagio, on ladders, on streams of sun, he sees them all, with those just leaving, with those just arriving, to this, the world, and though impossible, the world, […]

My translation of Lutz Seiler’s story ‘Turksib’ was recently published thanks to the lovely folks at beautiful The White Review…you can read it here

A smell like summer or rather the spray one associates with summer beaches that peculiar sweet smell and how soon before one’s made something that never happened She smelled like spray or rather summer and I think she was So here’s a rose and here’s a note and here a boy and a girl before […]

Long the light, & still Hot. First reds, a yellowing In leaf Breeze on burnt grass In corners the shadows of wings * (this poem first appeared with Konundrum Engine Literary Review)

Eveningsong Slim sun-edged thumb Of Roman brick Umbered, undone This late valley dozing Under a late spring sun You still want what will not last Still before the blue At evening, sound, come * (this poem originally appeared in Oxford’s halfcircle poetry journal, Issue 2)