Somewhere in Sweden earlier today, Stockholm I think, a truck ploughed through crowds of shoppers before crashing into a department store. They say it was another terrorist attack and that several people have since died. Around the same time, I was sniffing my fingers imagining what she looked like with no clothes on, and… Read more

  Stood there looking at myself in the mirror above the fireplace as the sun was coming down, everything outside seemed so cool and sublime. Shifting from one foot to the other, I was inspecting the shape of my balls, which for the time being at least appear to be cancer free. Belly’s a bit… Read more

  Woke up and showered then had some cornflakes and a cup of tea before getting the taxi to the hospital. The driver told me he had four kids. He then mentioned how impressed he was that I was looking after myself, because so many people are lazy and smoke and drink and don’t care… Read more

  Cigarettes and spent cans of Red Bull collecting rainwater the morning after the night before. Tit-wanks and ashtrays brimming with dead insects on a balcony overlooking a landscape that resembles the insides of her thighs. As we read Wilde in empty bathtubs dressed in pyjamas and stinking of sin, the old town is blanketed in… Read more

  Broken trampolines in overgrown gardens. Beer cans full of rainwater and dead insects in ashtrays. Bus journies that take us through towns we never knew existed and books stolen from libraries while drunk and greedy for mischief that now collect dust on the windowsill of her kitchen. The cinema is empty, as is the pub… Read more

  Exhaust fumes. Black stockings. A strong jawline and a mouth that has known many men. Sometimes we make daisy chains. We make love unaware of the rising seas and how one day all that we know will be underwater. It doesn’t matter, we’ll be dead by then, anyway. Those writers you hang around with- do you… Read more

  Greasy spoons and dreamcatchers hang in the window as we eat. I’m hungover and unkempt. My love is disguised by clothes that haven’t been washed in over a week and hair that hasn’t seen soap in far longer. The fingers on my right hand are stained by all those dirty cigarettes I’ve been smoking.… Read more

  A perfect circle of tongues with hips as petals and hands that itch and twitch whenever the moment comes to forget about the world and all of its vices. Stairwells in Manhatten. Streets that flow like rivers as we kick our feet and bite the air because we fear death and sex is our… Read more

  This body of mine- it keeps ageing even though I tell it not to. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The contract I signed stated quite clearly that mortality was something that concerned other people and most definitely not me, and yet here I am. Meh. When we kiss, she places my hand on her… Read more

  When I’m not working or writing I tend to wrap myself in a dressing gown and lie on the floor while staring at my hands. There’s flesh, but that’s what everyone sees. My secret desire is to see bone. Not because I want to but because it’s the truth and that’s the golden ticket… Read more