Accepting the mixed-bag Now of our lives. Hard. -- THE THING IS to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you’ve he...

Voice Noets With Poets is a series of audio gratitudes (delivered as voice notes) to some of my favourite makers about their work. In each episode you...

THE MOTHER The girl wrote a story. “But how much better it would be if you wrote a novel,” said her mother. The girl built a dollhouse. “But how much ...

Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly, Asleep on the black trunk, Blowing like...

PRAYER Every day I want to speak with you. And every day something more important calls for my attention – the downloads, the books-to-read, the colla...

Some reflections on Chio Nakamura's Wild Strawberries via The Book of Job, Hansel & Gretel, 22 year-old Amy in Madison Wisconsin struggling with Covid...

NEVERENDING POETRY I can see now that everything we write is in conversation first of all with God there I said it the name I struggle to relate to or...

Some reflections on Caedmon's hymn via Beckett, Barthes, Foucault, Dracula, Corona, poem-twittery as identity politics, and why poetry koans are (mayb...

Seventy One Kilograms My arse is growing fatter. In plague times, at least us privileged beige people but also some privileged brown and pink ones sti...

THE WAREHOUSE This is not a false alarm. This is not a drill. This is an emergency. It’s not just about an emergency. It’s not just on the subject of ...