3 Thirds

Gil Sans is not a typeface myself or anyone else would favour generally for book work. In this occasion I thought it might work well. Alasdair agreed and Agnes was leaving the matter to us, so we went ahead. Other than that Alasdair did everything, as many versions and varieties of versions as were necessary. … Continue reading 3 Thirds


Rising Trident

Rising Trident It was not a plunging trident That spiked your stride Brought down by a gladiator Played out by a younger child It was not the poisoned blood cut off by the snow and ice coursing through determinedly Diminished by the surgeons knife It was not the fist of a bastard That clenched on … Continue reading Rising Trident

Smoking a cigarette you thought would be your last

Smoking a cigarette you thought would be your last Before you arrived, looking up, looking over, eyes downcast The clipped click of your heel on the New York cobble met Uneven, irregular, undulating, in the shining wet Seven for seven thirty, that's what I said Seven forty eight, that's not what I meant But smoking … Continue reading Smoking a cigarette you thought would be your last