I’m unpublishing two of my self-published e-books. The novella Like Clocking Fuckwork
and the short story, and first part and introduction to would have been series, Poison Flour: A Fish goes for a Swim and ends up Drowning
will no longer be available anywhere. The reason for this is that, let’s be honest, I don’t have it in me to do nearly enough promotion and right now I’m feeling like they might, in fact, be shit to begin with anyway. I’m probably also shutting down my author account on Goodreads, because it’s doing absolutely nothing for me, creatively, socially or promotionally.
I’m keeping my two poetry books out there
because … why not, and if I ever start harbouring illusions about it again I might eventually serialize the novella on Medium. We’ll see.
As you were.
You not hearing it
doesn’t mean a soundtrack
in the background as I
enter this bus
You don’t know
And so what if I
only got on because I
didn’t have time for
walk to work
You don’t know about me
You don’t know the things I can do
in my head as I
sip this coffee
How could you?
You don’t even hear the songs that are playing
This poem was originally published on Medium.
Photo by Timon Studler on Unsplash
I will from now on also be publishing on Medium, so feel free to come and check me out over there and connect if you have already found your way there as well.
My first Medium post is an oldie but goodie from here on my WordPress page, but expect new material there soon.
Oh Captain, my Captain,
may I say
with your Boots
in that Bucket,
and you know
what they say
with big feet…
thing is though
you sometimes feel
an inescapable cold
and blankets won’t help
suffering of your soul
They sat one evening on the riverbank
shielding themselves from the wind in each other’s arms.
He was breathing in the fresh air
and she was shivering.
She said ‘as we’re sitting here life is passing us by just like the water’.
He said ‘you and me here in this moment is life’.
He said ‘if we had planned ahead we wouldn’t be sitting here like this right now’.
She said ‘if we had planned ahead we would have already been home’.
And then they both said ‘I love you’.
This poem was originally published in 2015 and is the title piece of An Old Jigsaw, my first collection of poetry and flash fiction.
One of the things I love most
about being abroad is being surrounded
by people speaking foreign languages;
languages I don’t understand.
Every conversation seems intriguing.
There’s an endless array
for what is being talked about.
People seem so very interesting
when you don’t understand
what they are actually saying…