poetry
-
Memoirs of a geography teacher
Once I was a geography teacher, Coloured chalk and the spirit narcotic of Banda machines Graffitied textbookss and dusty slides. Lists of things that must be named and some jokes I tell Every year, every year…. Store cupboards filled with… Continue reading
-
Secret lanes
The land hasn’t died this year. It is still green and not yet black as it should be in December. This old year refuses to die even while new life springs from the withered flesh, the sagging skin, the emaciated… Continue reading
theanxiouscyclist 