he ran a hundred haphazard miles, confused the high, long, and pole jumps, threw the hammer – oomph! – put the weight, estimated history, and ruined her plans — 9 July 2019
evening fiction and non-fiction on a steep fabric — 14 June 2019
portrait of an encroaching disfavour, hung out on a pissy fiddle — 31 May 2019
they danced, intoxicated, inside a small brass box — 13 May 2019
unseen — yo tengo ya mucha vida vivida — 10 May 2019
lost (again) in remembrance of unseen eventualities — 19 March 2019
the stroke and jerk of a clumsy confluence — 12 February 2019
a grand piano reign don parody — 22 October 2018
time indifferent, time inadequate and unabated, time to jump in – 11 October 2018
I still haven’t felt foolish because I don’t know to whom I address myself – 25 September 2018
a dozen or so – 20 September 2018
rum finds a hidden violence, opens a strange menagerie – 18 September 2018
the new era will not start with M, T, S, or H (sentimental letters withdrawn) – 3 September 2018
in modesty I composed a couplet, in shame I hid my ambition – 28 August 2018
because, because, because: a manifesto – 20 August 2018
Morandi was an electrician and an amateur football player; he lived in the first person – 15 August 2018
she covers me like Pompeii – 25 July 2018
a weary composure skirt his indifference – 16 July 2018
cats’ eyes, corn dogs and desert rats [1] [2] [3] – 27 June to 2 July 2018
no amount of reading and research prepared me for the marks incidental to the headline – 21 June 2018
Donna was playing bingo at the time – 15 June 2018
history moves between me and the mirror – 25 May 2018
your star, sitting solo in the sky, eclipsed by a football – 22 May 2018
a phoney Picasso – 9 May 2018
Speakman spoke of a man who said he’d never say anything – 8 May 2018
one one two three eight nine 14 15 19 20 25 36 43 45 48 59 73 80 111 125 130 132 – 4 May 2018
we didn’t know her well, but she sniffled a goodbye as she ran out – 19 April 2018
late yesterday morning, than two decades ago, this möbius history returned in verse – 17 April 2018
he resented the party’s choleric tide, rising with his desertion – 12 April 2018
he found himself extraneous and so made an alibi of the dark – 11 April 2018 
misinformation quickly retweeted and verified – 4 April 2018
he loved in absentia, as though not yet abandoned – 2 April 2018
the morning swells to encroach on the night; a long season ends – 17 March 2018
hardline harpsichordists, operating with complete impunity – 15 March 2018
he banked his treasure in the hearts of his friends — 4 March 2018
he sat, his hands dedicated to his pockets, thinking it was all a bit of a fuss — 16 February 2018
it sounded like a cannon, a bid for the other side — 16 September 2017
a crystal palace wrapped in plastic — 11 September 2017
the big cheese eats shoots and leaves — 30 August 2017 
he sheds his porous skin and leaves home — 26 August 2017
the easel and the painting; four adults, two six-year-old twins, and Donald Trump — 22 August 2017 
Mr Laa Laa’s sandwiches were not up to scratch — 15 August 2017
go gentle on my mind, Uncle Boo, I’m clapped out — 9 August 2017
ascetic us, slow out of the blocks and struggling in the middle — 5 August 2017
we knew them to say hello and they seemed nice, they ate crumpets for breakfast — 30 July 2017
confidential crook croak and prototype of peri beri — 26 July 2017
mon amie, the man who may have used the name ‘Alex’ — 17 July 2017
as I viewed the Pyrenees, he drove towards Penrith — 13 July 2017
to break one’s duck with a strongly worded statement — 8 July 2017