I have a new poem out in the latest issue of The Pangolin Review, “Bleachers At Clearwater”. It’s something of a departure from my usual subject matter, and it was written on the coach on the way back from Clearwater, Florida, to Lake Buena Vista. It’s definitely more light-hearted than my usual writing, but I think we all need that every now and then. Enjoy!
4,000 miles away from my own doormat, after a long day of co-ordinating the salt in my nails with the sand in my teeth, I whisper “please, no letters” into my American pillow, as if there were anything it could possibly do to stop the consultant, to stop the admin clerk, to stop the sorting office staff, to stop the postman, to stop time.