a head so wreathed with pain
all the good guys
and he carries the reminders
another one
Beano the stardust
being dead
days
dead angels
faith
grim
i am waiting
i distrust my own voice
light promenades
night of no cloud
nothing threatens our peace (sonnet)
Paddy paast the bottle
pictures in the sky
that which we aspire to first (sonnet)
the grace of the child
the new god
there is a line
thou wert a beaten dog
too much introspection
under darkening skies
what though i never get my figure back