the first fish on the moon

Oh to be a wobbegong hiding underneath a warm sea, well camouflaged and resting until it’s time for her tea. Or to be a coelacanth ever unchanging in the deep, older than the dinosaurs but not extinct just asleep. Some follow the salmon king leaping glorious sex and death, while others play great white sharks … Continue reading the first fish on the moon


a red kite cries over Rose Hill cemetery

The snow lies longer in the cemetery, slush-hushing and slippery under my boots, compelling me to take penguin steps, sadly comic middle-aged man waddling unsteady, slightly sweaty within a formless winter coat. I don’t want to fall here on this incline of etched dates and their named victims so I stop, cork-screwing my feet into … Continue reading a red kite cries over Rose Hill cemetery


I'd love to build you a pyramid or minaret up to the sky. I'd put the Taj Mahal in shadow and the Kremlin walls would shake. Let Liberty light her candle and Sydney's Opera House sing. I'm going to pitch my tent on an honest Scottish cliff-top and face the storms of a northern sea.