Poetry

The knife in the dark

Soft. I hear the toes spread, carpet fibres fill the spaces.

Weight gently shifted, one step as even as the next.

The air ripples along to where I am. The scent of blood, or is it merely iron?

My legs want to bolt, give away my position. I cannot let them.

Else the sharp will find the soft, and not even the dark can stop it.

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Poetry

On making good art

It lets me examine it

smoothing my hands along its contours

gazing into each space, searching those pocket spaces

for wisps of goodness

where I can spend time being myself.

 

Sometimes

it shows me my mistakes

sometimes

I can see future pictures of wells

where I jump into the unknown.

 

If I walk past it in the morning

I see one thing.

If I walk past it a minute later,

I see another.

 

If I stumble to down to my hands and knees,

not looking at it directly but from the corner of my eye

I can see every part of it, pixel fine.

Or nothing at all.

Poetry

Crepuscular (in response to an interview with Neil Gaiman)

Sometimes, my eyes feel like

swollen pearls

liquefying down my cheeks.

I stumble, blind,

from the doors of famous

enough,

over to the council of too

famous, or famous too.

My voice can fill

but no longer be heard.

I must consider if,

simply,

I am tomorrow’s forgotten things.

 

The interview that inspired this can be found here

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I’m on Youtube!

So today I did something (kind of) impulsively – I made a video about books. I plan to make more, though I won’t have a specific upload schedule, it’ll be more of a ‘when I have time’ kind of thing, but this is the start to what will hopefully be an interesting Booktube channel.

As with all first videos, there are plenty of awkward moments, but it was fun to record and just talk book talk for a while. And yes, I say ‘fantastic’ a lot.

You can view it here.

Happy watching!