I never found out exactly what happened to the boy on the trampoline. In those days I commuted by bus, crawling through the suburbs. You’d see him every morning, rising unexpectedly above the hedge around their garden: rising, falling, rising, falling, as the bus went by.Read More
There he stands, just feet from his vehicle,
puffing contently, ignoring the wide-eyed
stares from behind the dirty windows.
There are times I want to
on your chest
to release the ravens I painted on your ribcage,
to see something shocking flying from you.
I want to celebrate finishing my essay. I decide to have a bath. I can’t actually remember the last time I had a bath. Nearly every day I have a shower. The other days I just don’t wash.Read More