27 August 2009


The fisherman looked down at it, half wrapped in net on the deck of their boat, it flapped and slipped around uselessly. A tail and cloven hooves were never a winning combination on a wet wooden floor.

“What is it?” Said one of the men.

“It’s the devil,” said another. He took hold of his crucifix and pressed it to his sunburned mouth.

“Let’s put it back before something bad happens,” said a third.

The creature had given up trying to escape and was lying exasperated on the deck. It looked at the men through large, black, sad eyes. Its tail was a stunning iridescent green and made the men recall their time in beautiful, far away places. It was making a strange sound.

Just then the captain appeared amongst them and looked down at the sorry creature. He had no idea what it was, but part of being a captain is to say things like the following.

“Whoo! We’ll eat a good supper tonight, lads!”

Some of the men started to retch, but the captain was in mid-flow. “Don’t worry, we won’t go near it until it’s stopped mooing from its gills. Now, do you suppose it'd go better with mustard or lemon?”

The captain wandered off in search of just the right condiment.

Without a word the men rolled the creature back over the edge of the boat and into the sea. It looked immediately happy. They watched it enjoy the water, diving down and swimming past them far more gracefully than they had expected. Before it disappeared, it popped its head up out of the water and looked back at them contentedly. It was slowly chewing an enormous clump of seaweed.

20 August 2009

Paradise City Prostitute

The girl
by the side
of the road
like a pure
of 1986
she was
a music video
all by
something about
and leaving home
wearing tight
and a leather jacket
with hair that
no wind
was a match for
her lips and
were painted
bright red
and she
held a cigarette
in her
like a weapon
she was
and all three of us
fell in love with her
for the seconds
while we passed
and later we
that her
calling card
would read
Take Me Down to Paradise City
or maybe
Slippery When Wet

17 August 2009


to a cloudless
evening sky
and swaying branches
of hazel
and birch
I was really
barely there
unable to move
or unwilling
it didn’t matter which
the insects
didn’t even notice me
and all around
were hushed
excited voices
of close friends
enjoying one another
and a constant drone
of grimy
happy children
their words a mix
of foreign tongues
and laughter
it was perfect
and just then
a wind came through
and played the trees
like an orchestra
of harps
and as much
as I wanted to stay
I was lulled
to sleep

3 August 2009


“It’s the principle of the matter,” she said, dragging the suitcase away. It was threadbare and broken from years of careless treatment. In its bottom corner was a hole, she had obviously forgotten, and things of no apparent consequence spilled out onto the street behind her. She was walking too heavily to hear. The old forgotten items lay there casting small shadows, enjoying sunlight and fresh breeze for the first time in years. I didn’t say anything. It was about the principle after all.