She lies upon the duvet like an island with the half-open window letting in a breeze that blows the curls of her hair. Outside, there’s a man who shuffles to and from town at the same time every day. He looks like a stroke victim; his left arm lifeless, and the side of his… Read more

  Wrapped in blankets marked with cigarette burns, she crawls deformed at the foot of the bed as my hand slides up her laced skirt. Raining hard as my body lacks the energy to do anything but recover, in a field of lepers and dogs and cunts, the nature of my illness is nearby yet… Read more

  She cries with her face turned towards a slither of golden sun while passing invisibly as I sit alone in the spare bedroom drinking wine unable to write. Leaning back in my chair, I want to set the world on fire with delirious words, yet the words don’t come, so I just sit there… Read more

  We listen to The Smiths and it’s raining and it’s winter and we’re in love because the clouds say so even though we can never understand a single thing they come out with. Maybe it’s because we’re drunk on sambuca shots and green tea and the scent of blankets drenched in citrus spray we… Read more

  Stood on the balcony of some apartment block, there’s a woman who smokes a pack a day. She’s worth a fuck, but there’s not much else going on if you look past her body. Don’t get me wrong; it’s a good body, one worthy of some serious attention for sure, but meh, it’s just… Read more

  Down at the tennis courts, my anxieties are nowhere to be seen. After all, they don’t call me Mr Lizard for nothing. Pretending to read a newspaper, I’ve cut two small holes through the pages, and when I bring it close to my face, I can see women and their glorious bodies all sweaty… Read more

  The flooded quarry is a sight for sore eyes, as is the memory of her rising to the surface and gasping for air against the raging undercurrent. Sketching droplets of water that hang just out of reach into my Moleskine, I’m wondering if she could be a lover or a whore, or if I’m… Read more

  Naked and horny like a toad, there are people in the garden I don’t recognise yet who recognise me. Looking down at them through the window, they wave in my direction, but I duck out the way. Wiping the sweat off with a handful of dirty curtain, the night is still young, but I’m already… Read more

  The sunset’s quite beautiful and as the hours pass, I become progressively drunk, which is even better. There’s a barbeque with lots of people I don’t recognise, each with their own agenda. Laughing and smiling, they look so content, and as they talk among themselves about the jobs they have, it feels as if… Read more

  If you want, we could grab some pizza, or maybe fly around the sun. It’s up to you. Those we have no need for, they busy themselves attending poor quality music festivals and dancing in clubs while drinking heavily to escape how terribly insignificant their lives are. Whenever I drink, it’s because I’m trying… Read more