Poem #228 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction it’s so quiet on the other side of atmosphere I can’t hear the dog next door or the car that is coughing awake outside my window a creamy-lemon moon looks at me … Continue reading atmospherics

the school cleaner

he armed himself on a daily basis with the tools required by his trade a broom of course and a mop and bucket solvent and a three inch paintbrush a duster an eraser and assorted cloths a chisel he had sometimes found useful and a hammer some weights protective clothing obviously overalls dark glasses heavy … Continue reading the school cleaner

here and there it’s done

I’m laying down the kylie on his bed turning back the sheets my man is managing himself in the shower I record his observations temperature and pulse cup the pills for another medication round routine morning in the ward I’m standing in the broad beans tying eggplants straight and tall grubbing new potatoes with my … Continue reading here and there it’s done