The Factory

Placing our thoughts in order and putting them into practice is the hardest challenge of all.

Month: July, 2016

Smoking Days

Smoking days are over,
The needle of a sewing machine
Pierces my vein over and over,
Replacing the gnaw of nicotine.
Foot firm on the peddle –
You must hear it before you die.


Happiest of Hells

Weighed down by concrete clouds,
I take a walk with Mr Shepard and Mr Boulter;
One an escape artist, the other a thief.
Walking westbound towards the Severn Bridge Toll,
Waves braking beneath us, hands of the dead grasping
our ankles, as old territory turns into mythical lands.
Escaping into the happiest of hells,
spilling drinks of hard liquor, leading to stonewall fist fights,
punching above our weight, we laugh at every demon.


A shivering walk ends with a bounty of food,
Paid for with a bank balance
Sufficiently full.

Next to the cash point, a dog-eared
Bed and a lost soul,
No food or shelter; tent stolen by police.

New Year’s Resolution

**Written in January 2016.


January brings joggers to the crisp, damp park.
Icicle-shaped leaves provide an aspect of danger.
Back and forth, they run past a girl slumped
Sleeping limp across a bench, legs dangling,
No sign of air from lungs under her padded coat.
Some look and think of stopping,
But phones don’t fit in brand new jogging shorts.
Should I raise the alarm?
Two park keepers preening, cleaning
Not too far away, but I continue my workout,
Shamelessly, not wanting to be involved.