An American Story.
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from Nebraska
A poem in the voice of Rosalita. Read More. I don't like salesmen And you've got nothing to sell me Sure you're suave but you're just nicely packaged I'm bored with conversation That leads nowhere and says nothing And you said nothing Just to talk to me [chorus] Don't talk to girls As if we're... Continue Reading →
I Fell In Love With The Girl At The Pen Show
October 10th to 12th was the London (Autumn) Pen Show. This is like any trade show: you have vendors who like to sell you things, customers who want deals on those things, and a few onlookers trying to build brands, follow next year's marketing trends, make relationships with mutually beneficial businesses… or who just want to hold the bags of somebody they love, looking for a place to sit. I went for the Sunday as a customer.
I Can Fix The House Of Lords
Britain's House of Lords is a second chamber made of compromise. We as a nation understand the value of a second chamber: it is essential for governmental checks and balances, for debate, and so that the government of the country cannot be swayed by current moods in electoral politics blinding us to widespread issues or... Continue Reading →
Love Songs In Middle-Age
I am 31 and fully dead. Lloyd Cole says the first song he ever wrote about being middle-aged was Hey Rusty. Anybody listening to his 1987 album 'Mainstream' can tell he's having a bit of an identity crisis: songs like Sean Penn Blues and My Bag are sharp satires of a world Cole doesn't seem... Continue Reading →
sometimes I feel like societal collapse.
we live in a society. Today I cycled to the library in a miniskirt. It's not a noteworthy thing for me to do; in fact, I probably wear more clothes than most of the people I see on my commute in the balmy final days of summer. It is not remarkable to see a lady's... Continue Reading →
Quentin’s Study
Reddish-brown leather, silver studs, darkened to gunmetal by time and mottled besides. High wing back and buttons in the quilting that look just like the speakers on the wall. I see you, with glasses on your nose looking up something in Halliwell's. I see you, eyes closed, record on loud, dead to the world, happiest... Continue Reading →
How To Skip The Reading
Happy start of term to undergrads. Listen up, fuckers. I work in both a high school and university, and have done both concurrently for about ten years now*. Trust, I know when you have not done the reading. I was a giant nerd in my own undergraduate days, the kind of person people asked to... Continue Reading →
Piss Alley
A man took me home once who took a slash against a wall in Green Lanes; I was aghast. (Dear Reader: we still fucked.) And now when I am walking down some snicket where men piss I think of him. This short poem was written as part of the 'Alphabet Superset' programme: it is quick... Continue Reading →
Jump A Little Lighter: Chapter 3
An American Story.
Late Romantic 