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the missile cuts a pathway into her mind
A century later
leechlike to their fainting country cling
England in 1819
lays out pointed tools, the way a surgeon might
The jewellery maker
The sky is cloudy, yellowed by smoke'
In a London Drawing Room
consonants you could lick the coal from
Homing
my great great grandad searched for spaces
A Wider View
on the verge of becoming black holes
thirteen
a silence that was not an absence'
With Birds...
'a wave of rubbish'
Like an heiress
I know my mountain breezes enchant and sooth thee still
Shall Earth no more inspire thee
like her (sita) i have been chastend through trial by fire
name journeys
keep staring at it 'till you sleep
Portable Paradise
