by kvennarad

O settlement! What do we mean when

we say ‘love’? The least kills the greatest

with ease, one stone does it. What do we


mean when we talk about distance? The

flames kindled, the figures leap and dance,

but only in the corner of your eye when


your gaze isn’t towards that stone wall.

What do we mean by self? Shift, and shift

again. What air comes between ‘me’ and


‘you’, and how is it charged? There is an

urgency in morning runners, but if they’re

not running to or from they might as well


mark time. Why is there more conversation

between late-autumn trees and those of full

summer? “Last night I saw a street full of


people, faces down but illuminated.” Why

do you push? O vitality! Why make such

an apostrophe, when there are children


dying? A career, even that of the Jagannath

cart, has an inevitable end. Why go to the

ends of the earth seeking a whole number?


jupiterThere are still some copies left of my T.S. Eliot Prize-nominated poetry collection I am not a fish, direct from the publisher, though I suspect that they might not keep it in stock for much longer. So now would be a good time to buy a copy. How I hate running a commercial here!

Please visit and read Daniel Paul Marshall’s response to my short article on difficult poetry.