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

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.