Secretly you track

Secretly you track
my steps, then I turn and see:
the daylight full moon.

No money, no coat

No money, no coat
to go shopping. I brought back
haiku and a cold.

The only witness

The only witness:
as night ended, I saw the
streetlight switching off.

I watch the clock and

I watch the clock and
think about haiku, and then
the pasta is cooked.

Thomas De Quincey

Thomas De Quincey
sick and homeless, in the book
I read in the bath.

The planning meeting

The planning meeting
laughed off the lady who picks
mushrooms on the site.

Lying ill in bed

Lying ill in bed
with a stack of undone work...
hello, pussycat!

We drive ourselves to

We drive ourselves to
the hospital. The other
drivers cut us up.

Sore throat, blocked nose and

Sore throat, blocked nose and
rattling cough. My body is
seeking attention.

Help me, writes a girl

Help me, writes a girl
in the next car's window-steam,
then wipes it away.

Two hundred and six

Two hundred and six
bones in the human body:
my pub quiz triumph!

On the radio

On the radio
I talk about football and
think of the Ramones.

In the suburbs, birds

In the suburbs, birds
sing about migration and
love and climate change.

Loud winds pause and the

Loud winds pause and the
rattling catflap rests. Silence
reveals a siren.

In a silent house

In a silent house
a heating boiler turns off,
makes it more silent.

Dry season's over

Dry season's over;
dew and nectar break, bring life.
Ah... first beer this week.

Two daffodils are

Two daffodils are
out, says a text from my mum
sent twice by mistake.

The sheep escape and

The sheep escape and
words and music leap and chime.
Sleepless nights, my art.

Unplayed guitar strings

Unplayed guitar strings
resonate unseen when that
unheard tree comes down.

I am happiest

I am happiest
hearing rain, indiepop and
ice clink in your glass.

Synchronicity

Synchronicity
and trains link us now; after
serendipity.

Allotments empty

Allotments empty,
sheds are closed, padlocked. Night falls.
Onions keep growing.

Swirling drizzle in

Swirling drizzle in
the floodlights makes me think of
hot showers and home.

Rain pressing the pane

Rain pressing the pane;
spluttering radio stops.
Soup pan, murmuring.

Eighty-fifth minute

Eighty-fifth minute,
nil-nil, free kick. Between stands,
headlights in the night.

The path is vague, though

The path is vague, though
we know January yields
the suddenest dusks.

Christmas tree lights spread

Christmas tree lights spread
across a rumpled blanket;
my city at night.

Slow down, busy head

Slow down, busy head.
No use trying to keep up
with broadband bitrates.

Painting the bedroom

Painting the bedroom:
instead of the colour charts,
the eyes of my cat.

Baby cries next door

Baby cries next door;
strong winds; faint radio news –
music in the bath.