Twisted Colon’s second anthology is available to buy now.
If we ever go to Mars it will be in cars
With rusty exhausts and failing springs.
There will be a smell of vinyl
And traces of lichen around the windows,
Which we’ll badly want to open,
As we bounce across the Helas Basin.
Dusk is the time of Santa Claus /
Autumn briars where he dwells /
He stalks among the dying branches /
Among the stones, inscriptions For drowned ships and fallen leaders, Stands of alder and of birch The frozen souls of … More
There’s not much timorous about you my friend
Scrotal ye are, and swelling
I haven’t yet named the thing / That is lost, or gained / When death comes near / But stays his hand
I turn to see my brother / On the low side still / Awash / On the brink of the heaving / Jade abyss
For three days we held the barricades. Their army was pressing in, occupying the suburbs and for now, probing our … More
Poignant shot, that. / The upraised hand / Of a baby Macaque.