My most recent collection The Tempest Prognosticator is published by Salt in the UK and Random Umuzi in South Africa. My earlier collection A Fold in the Map is published by Salt in the UK and Jacana in South Africa. You can read more about these books and other publications (like joint work on the sinking of RMS Titanic, The Debris Field, published by Sidekick Books) here, along with poems, details of forthcoming readings and the odd snippet of news.

I am currently working on a collaboration with Scottish artist Douglas Robertson, inspired by DH Lawrence's poems in Birds, Beasts and Flowers. More detail and images can be found here and in forthcoming journal publications.

 

New Work

 

'Nobodies' in launch issue of The Mimic Octopus

'River Mother' & 'A Missionary in Neon Green' in Bare Fiction 2

'Suitcase Heart' in Popshot 11 - The Journeys Issue

'O Philandrium' & 'Finsong' in Magma 58.

 

Other work forthcoming in:

Prairie Schooner

Carapace

Verse Junkies

The Dark Horse

The Interpreter's House

The New Statesman

Poems in Which

Magma 59

 

Events 


The Mimic Octopus launch reading,

Friday 9 May 7.30 pm, The Betsey Trotwood, EC1R 3BL

The Interpreter's House Issue 56 reading

Thursday 12 June, 7.00 pm, The Red Roaster, Brighton

See more on events here.

 

Some Reviews

 

Interview on LitNet, May 2013

Debris in The Island Review

British Council Writers

The Tempest Prognosticator

'Dixon's Strange New World'

'Rich Reward for Readers'

A Fold in the Map:

The Mail & Guardian

The Financial Times

 

 So Many Henries

Thou Upstart Crow, glove-maker’s son,
what a world is this you’ve made?
What right have you to break our hearts so,
foundering nightly on the reefs
of your tempestuous stage?

How could you know so well
our joint and secret griefs,
the schisms national, long jars
of York and Lancaster,
and of our several selves.

From the heavens to the cellarage,
blood’s old parade:
the tinchel closes on the victim,
brothers plot harm, war
issues from a mother’s rage.

Son who has killed his father,
father who has killed his son –
all Falstaff’s merriment
can’t wipe this from the page,
nor right the wrongs we’ve done

to those we love. Do we learn,
rent by these scenes,
or is it bootlessly we burn?
If this whole Globe goes up in flames,
then God have mercy on the man        
who seeks to build it up again.

 

 

Originally published in The Tempest Prognosticator.


23 April 2014, William Shakespeare's 450th birthday