Monthly Archives: September 2017

National poetry day

There came a point where you reached a stage of self-awareness as you read the poetry that you scribbled on A4 narrow feint lined notepads, the words spidering halfway along each line, those words scrawled in the half light, those … Continue reading

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She gives you a pad of paper. – There’s a pen if you You have your own. The ink flows easier from your rollerball. – We’ve discussed writing. You’re half listening now. You know. You’d tried. Sat down and tried. Have … Continue reading

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The Spielvogel moment

and so twenty minutes or so into our sixth meeting I said to her, – I realise what I’ve been doing. I’ve been talking about not talking. When I’ve talked about her, and our weekly chats, and that night when … Continue reading

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