COVID-8

people are outside, gathering
in these last days of Autumn
for the first time in two months I hug someone (Cole)
viral, this
opening up
is touching us all

May 2020

COVID-7

Penn Station, and as loud. Stations? Fourteen - that old martyr routine, guy on the side walk shouts, ‘Lady, all that dead wood you’re carrying around’.

2010, month unknown

COVID-6

the house when I return is cold, and dark. 5.26pm: the sea from the kitchen window sinks into the sky. the weight of the water. the shapes beneath prehistoric

harp on extinction

June 2017

COVID-5

it’s not that you love me, it's how you love me
and a virus works the same way
inching closer, then, the mad scramble away

November 1994 | May 2020

COVID-4

A thought stops me.  What if you work out where I am?  What if you launch a boat and sail towards the island?  With this thought I start to dig.  Down into the soft dark soil, down like a rabbit, down like Wonderland

July 2012

COVID-3

to stop, and shut the whole thing down

April 2020