Cychael 70: Horace, Odes I.V
What slender boy, Pyrrha, drowned in liquid perfume, urges you on, there, among showers of roses, deep down in some pleasant cave? For whom did you tie up your hair, with simple elegance? How often he’ll cry at the changes of faith and of gods, ah, he’ll wonder, surprised by roughening water, surprised by the [...]
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Seagull and Sword
My poems
The Road to Safi Beach, Takooba
I wrote this on a trip to a Greek island, walking perhaps three miles to a beach. On which journey and at which destination, I saw only two people: some nude middle-aged Scandy sunbathers in the middle-distance. The reaction of the wildlife as I walked along made me think about man’s place in the world. [...]
The Amputation, Takooba
A new poem by me. The Amputation When the Broadgate Tower was half-done we marvelled how the flat scalpel cut the sky’s blue fleshplane. Each day, a new sun was braced beneath its definitive, frameless panes. Then one day, walking Brick Lane, we saw they’d hung a matt, whitish hump on the back. The knife [...]
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