The Hunter Sits: extracts from The Floating Harbour

Such keen eyes, such keen resolve.

The River Keeps Me Company: extracts from The Floating Harbour

I watch her and she’s wistless as she weaves and waves again.

Boku wa…

Gotta. Gonna. Wanna.

Where is the poetry and where’s the poet that it clasps to?

Play, pleigh, puhley.

I have, these recent years, fallen, somehow, in to writing about Bristol over and over again.

Somestuff to present to whomsoever ever reads it.

FOTABTFOTN.

Take syllabic space ‘n empty it of possibility.

Lying, list’ning.

I have/I will have written in the waves of echoed song.

Only, really, time for teaching (worth it) others.

Words like water…

Poetry, prose…