Eliza showed me her breasts On our first date We were standing In front of the refrigerator I kissed her and softly noted That I was not that keen on chicken But I enjoyed well done steaks And that we should go to a steakhouse My treat But she insisted That we should go Dutch […]

I can remember him on the beach Sitting with Claudia Cut downs and a metal tee shirt Torn with a chic precision His sea bleached hair slightly wild Sometimes tied with a red bandana That was only a few months ago But now he sells flowers In front of the railway station In a heavy […]

Rom lay on the bed In Room 32 At the Balfour Hotel She had tried to drown herself That evening but was rescued By a passing chef Who was working In the kitchens Four floors below He had promised her A hot meal After his shift Rom was grateful To the chef For rescuing her […]

I had a feeling that you would be waiting for me Sisters are loyal What was it like in there Limited and full of faggots I do not think I have seen so many Sad sad bastards Anal fixated creeps Although I had some street cred as I had attacked ****** He is much hated […]

I found a bag of Norwegian stamps At a bus stop last night There were a large number In a damaged plastic bag Some were over one hundred years old This made me very happy As I admire Norway My wife is Norwegian And so is my wooden cat I sometimes think that God Loves […]

Why breed Mrs Read Are you going to give birth To a Rimbaud in a dress That is not likely Your son or daughter Will not amount to much I have not amounted to much Even though I have an great understanding Of Norwegian stamps

My Red Prostitute is the name of my shop It sells nothing but dreams All dreams are hand made Nothing is too much For our skilled craftsmen

I am sitting alone at a bare table Drinking a glass of clear water Everything is quite still The dying light is now hollow I am in the middle of a journey Which I am unable to describe

Silent doors Masked By tall trees Forever in shadow Surrounded By the deep mists Of the lake Only the dead Will visit This dark island They will never leave Arnold Böcklin

I frequently travel through Ash Usually when returning from Canterbury It is a large village typical of Kent With a history kind and sometimes unpleasant Today the village seems to be at peace with its history But who am I to tell as I am a recent outsider I have seen many photographs from its […]