Thursday, 30 June 2016

Evening, London, Post Referendum

Crossing Waterloo Bridge,
I re-set my watch by
the clock on the Savoy.
A vague pink smog softens.

Wednesday, 29 June 2016

Between Joy Division and New Order

all the obstacles
to patience, I

break the interim
tension by
wielding scissors—

roughing up
interregnum uncertainty,

full-blade slicing
the munching mulch
of hiatus angst.

Friday, 24 June 2016

midsummer evening
the rainbow fades 
out of reach

Thursday, 23 June 2016

humidity . . .
I skim through the book
straight to the end-matter

Wednesday, 22 June 2016

in the long grass,
eating some:
Persian cat

Tuesday, 21 June 2016

on the top deck
two bus drivers compare

Monday, 20 June 2016

The Life of Riley

The heavy rush-hour rain
this Monday morning solstice
three days before the Referendum
that which must be referred
runs off illegible names
on time-tilted headstones
to soak the dead and the living.

Saturday, 18 June 2016

muggy dusk . . .
a barge gradually docks
at Eagle Wharf

Sunday, 12 June 2016

roadside poppy
thickening mist enfolds
the Ridgeway fields

Tuesday, 7 June 2016

summer rain
the groundsman's sprinkler
waters the wicket

Sunday, 5 June 2016

a rabbit's twitch . . .
heat-yellowed pinks fringe
the vineyard terrace

Wednesday, 1 June 2016

A Hundred Gourds

I was delighted when Lorin Ford invited me to be in the last-ever issue of A Hundred Gourds and it's lovely to see that Ron Moss has worked his ever-wonderful haiga magic. But it's always sad to see any haiku publication cease, let alone one that's been as successful and highly regarded as this.

Tuesday, 31 May 2016

scrambling up Golden Hill
to the chapel-of-ease . . .
wild foxgloves

Monday, 30 May 2016

yellow flag . . .
the goldfinch nabs
a spiralling mayfly