In this day and age where our beloved national treasure, David Sir-Attenborough-face, can be seen regularly on our screens, Heimlich manoeuvring Barbie dolls from the delicate stomachs of baby seals, it is with a reluctant and heavy heart that I feel the need to suggest to a company that they should include more packaging in their products. And yet, here
Sands (The stillbirth and neonatal death charity) asked me to share the poem ‘We took her to the beach’ at the launch of the new MBRRACE report into stillbirth and child mortality in the UK. The aim was to bring the perspective of the bereaved parents upfront to keep the technical data and dry figures in context for the crowd
Short story ‘The friends we make’ has been published in the Gem Street: Beyond the Axis anthology from Labello Press. Featuring ‘The friends we make.’ A widow, who builds companions from furniture and pieces of her house, lives in fear after one of her creations resents his existence and seeks to punish his maker. From the publisher: Our boldest anthology;
I descend wooden steps paved with sunlight; a pulled switch licks cold metal with a spark, but the light bulb flickers and dies. I shield my face from the glowing doorway above until the dark unveils its landmarks. I crunch across gritted cement, fingers glide through tufts of dust and slide over abrasive rust. In the centre of the room,
Pieces performed on this occasion included: Full spectrum of love Chalk lines
They found the remains of Mr. Clapper, our former history teacher, three feet beneath the school field. That would make him Edwardian. A piece of chalk remains, poised among bone digits, like a sixth finger, still pointing at the mouth of Matthew Braithwaite, expecting an answer. “Who was the fifth wife of Henry the Eighth?” A search begins for Braithwaite,
Poetry performance at Pop Up Cafe 14 in the Red Brick Building, Glastonbury.
Poetry Performance at ‘The Cafe,’ Cheddar.