West Street


In the Brighton

West Street Odeon

Costas franchise


the three-piece

family to my left

– a mother and two kids –


quite calm before

some animated

candy-floss maybe


and the sea the

colour of blue

jade on a Chinese


Emperor’s ceremonial

armour, visible

shifting its surface at the


plate-glass window

past the counter,

while I read R.S. Thomas


– and he takes a

pretty bleak view of

our human prospects –


between his poems

emphasising the

extreme brevity,


checking the

Grindr App for

no-strings meets or


possibly more,

the selection of men

apparently endless.


Sitting in the Nero’s in Western Rd. Waiting for the hard copy of my book to be printed off & still looking at WordPress on my phone, changing my themes & generally fucking about with it. There’s rain outside & some kind of Nero’s jazz on the system. Everybody in my vicinity is gazing into a screen. There are people walking past outside the window, heads down in the rain.