I see stories in everything.

Lonely, untouching table legs
Eye blinks on a staring face
Toads that love the beauty of their mating call
Disappointed potatoes, slightly burnt
Wet worms, rubbing bellies against mud
Chip munches that cry in terror
Doctor coats that shout undertaker
Sneaky tongues quenching stomach longings
Grey birds with red, look-at-me butts
Pencils, dwarfed and quartered
Spider kisses on a wall
Snug bedcovers, untouched
The unspoken uneasiness between
Mosquitoes who share a room
And one day
I’ll write about them all.



The torture two people impose
Upon each other
Is often hidden between bedsheets
And electricity bills.

There is no tribunal here
Or judge or victim
It’s just two sad people
Who want to be happy.

They try so hard
Tip-toeing around mediocrity
That slow thud of romance
Ripped by ‘whose turn it was’
To take the imaginary dog out.

Two good well-mannered people
Mating, is perhaps the saddest thing
They haven’t learnt how to throw dishes
And they hold their broken hearts
Thinking it’s whole.


For R, who saw the song in my SMS

My head’s woozy, my brains are leaking
These math probs are beyond solving
The figures dance before my eyes
When I multiply, the answers feel like lies.

I’m so tangled up in tables
My twos are fours
And my fours are crows
I’d rather write some fables
Oh, I’m so tangled up in tables.

The numbers are crunching
My back’s hurting with hunching
The bottom line, the topline
Multiply me and I’ll be fine.

I’m so tangled up in tables
Six sixes are horror mixes
Fourteen into twenty-four
Is eating up my core
Oh, I’m so tangled up in tables.

Who cares about a dollar more or less
I ask you, is it worth the stress?
If I screw up on the addition
They send me straight to perdition

I’m so tangled up in tables
Ten times eleven, is certainly no heaven
The square root of forty-five
Can go and take a fuckin’ dive
Oh, I’m so tangled up in tables.

One day I’ll shake off these number shackles
Prisons of addition, multiplication, divison
Will be wiped out with precision
And the dying digits will hear my insane cackles


I’m so tangled up in tables
Now the tables are tangled up in me.



The mirror on my bed
Looks back at me
And I see a woman
I sort-of-know
I’m trying to remember
How I thought she’d become
But all I can do
Is stare at how she is.


The setting sun
Brings in darkness
But now nothing
Can shadow my heart
It has a forever sunrise
Suddenly, the end of
Dark clouds and the feeling of
Thunderstorms without lightening
Is over
Rainbows are bursting
Everywhere, and for once
I’m not colour blind.

The Olive Tree

Gnarled, ugly brown
Vomitting shoots of green
Tendrils with sky views
And mud-clinging toes.

Wrinkles running everywhere
Knobs without U-turns
Small scratchings of bruises
Mushroom cancers on pretty display.

When you were young
Shamelessly you tried to seduce
The surging silver spun sun
Damn him, solo spinner.

Glistening in green
You preened, flirted, murmured
Anxious love songs, stolen by the wind
Unblinking, he shined on.

Birds fell in swooping love
Worms devoured you raw
Bugs rubbed their
Squat, short legs
Against the hardness
Of your little mouths
Drenched in dew.

The sun turned up his nose
At your carefully cultivated brown
Preserved without a smear of
Antiwrinkle cream and botox
Nothing could ever mar
This beauty you knew you had.

Year after year, you tried so hard
Growing in pain, to reach your love
With the touch of your tips
And the food of your heart.

Perhaps, that’s why you tower taller
Then the rest of us pygmies, caught up
In a manure of words
That never forgives and
Forever stunts.