Friday, February 15, 2019

Tempest on Tyneside - sneak peak....

Tempest on Tyneside 

A hilarious dystopian feminist take on climate change.
 Set in Sunderland 

‘There’ll be boatloads of them tonight Joe,’ I say as we sup on a pint, looking out over Roker Beach, ‘hundreds of them, thirsty and gagging to see a match.’
‘I never bother going, now man, it’s just too hard to get to the stadium because of all the storm work. I just can’t get there.’ Joe belches, taps his pint glass, signals to the barman for another. ‘Daft buggers, coming up here for the drink and the footy every weekend. Who’d do the journey on a night like this an’ all. I said to the missus this morning, it’s like being back in the glory days but it’s not steel, ships or coal that’s putting us on the map, now like.’
‘Listen to this man,’ I read the update from The Echo that’s pulsing across my data screen, ‘All working men’s clubs are to be reopened to help cope with the influx of beer drinkers from the south. Why man, we just need a comedian like The Little Waster and the clubs would be more popular than the footy. H’way, let’s get down to the pier.’

Excuse me there are crumbs in my anthology

Full story available in the Patrician Press Tempest Anthology Available 1 March order your copy HERE - all proceeds go to Amnesty International. 

Monday, February 4, 2019

Excuse me I'm calling time

Calling time

I remember when
I remember when
I almost lost my mind

Couldn’t have been that long ago

The tune of the trumpet

Living all the time

Like it would just get better

Then the knives lost their edge

Then I found mine

And said time’s up

Like a barmaid
Quite cheeky

Yep I’ve called time

This  keg of love has  just run dry

Thursday, January 10, 2019

excuse me my crumbs are damp


The streets are
The signs are
The pavement is

The crowds walk through it
The sky replenishes it
The buses wheel over it

The spaces green grand and grungy are
The mizzle makes it more
The kaleidoscopic greys across the sky and the sea
Reflect it
The houses outside and sometimes in are
The hanging baskets bloomin' well are
The towns of rich and poor are
The time telling us to drink more beer is
The chips showered in vinegar are

Damp in the walls