For The Read Horse Issue 5: Whispers, Mountains and Betrayal.
Have you seen
That man who’s leaning out the sill?
Throwing toothless sucking kisses
To every miss and missus,
Always at his window sill.
Continue reading “The Man at 65 Sancroft Street”
Story for The Read Horse Issue 4: Lust, Fist-Fights and British Seaside Resorts.
Inside the Regis Rock Shop the walls were a brilliant white. Not a clinical, hospital-kind-of-white, not even an over-starched first day of term school shirt white, but a heavenly one. The kind that’s depicted in low budget movies made by directors that lack imagination: harmless and inoffensive but unoriginal, at best: a glimpse of a better man’s fantasy.
Continue reading “Sunburnt Gullshit Wanderlust”
Poem for The Read Horse: Issue Four (lust, fist-fights and British seaside resorts).
I went to town to test a theory:
Fist-fights in the 21st C
Are not governed by laws of gravity
But by bullet-time. Continue reading “Friday Night Science Project”
What kind of pride-goer are you?
1) You’re about to head out to Pride and take a parting glance in the mirror. What do you see? Continue reading “Pride Quiz”
1) Electronic Devices Will Fail You
Your mobile phone will may be your second brain the other 364 days of the year, but today, it is your nemesis. Your phone doesn’t care if you charged for a whole 72 hours; it will splutter and die just as you’re arranging to meet up with the evening’s potential shag. You’re only a few short beeps and away from battery death and it’s goodbye sex, hello lost and lonely in a crowd of thousands. Your camera will soon follow suit.
Continue reading “Top Tips for Surviving Pride”
Submitted to Popshot Magazine for consideration June 2010.
Nosey, 19, creeps down the road,
Avoiding neighbourly eyes.
Dumps her dog-eared Mills and Boons,
Genuflects and sighs.
Foreign, 45, left a box of plates
As broken as his heart.
13, laughing, hauled a mattress
And didn’t wait for dark.
Noisy, 92, gave two half-used pots of whey protein
Gone in record time;
Found one mangled bass guitar
And a Hedera helix vine.
But in daylight we pass each other guiltily.
That salvaged sofa sleeps trackside, a squat for moss.
That reclaimed bike (the fixer-upper) is the shed’s unwanted pregnancy.
Though I’ll never forget the day,
I found two drunks at play
On an abandoned piano.
Feel like this government doesn’t represent you? Then vote Quadrilles, the ethnically diverse, pro-gay trivumvirate. Continue reading “Vote for Quadrilles”
You’d be forgiven for thinking that the time has passed for gathering in the flesh and talking with our tongues about ideas and stories. Today, Richard & Judy tell us what to read and we tap our political sentiments with heavy venom out on F-a-c-e-b-o-o-k till our fingers are red, only to forget about them when we log off. Continue reading “What Book Clubs Want: A Dear John Letter To Publishers”
Article for g3 Magazine‘s May issue.
Imagine the first PE lesson of the new school year, autumn term, 1998. The changing room is bubbling with summer holiday gossip, and is as fresh as the crisply pressed games skirts though it would soon succumb to the smells of armpits and the detritus of corn plasters and crisp packets. B*Witched’s zest for life chirps from the headphones of someone’s Discman but I sit near the lockers, distraught. My PE teacher has come back from the break with a different surname and the prefix Mrs. My 15 year-old self is even more confused than usual; all PE teachers are gay aren’t they?
Continue reading “Exploring Urban Myths#1 The Gay P.E. Teacher”
published in Some Think Blue magazine may 2010.
He shuffles behind me, hands clasped behind his back, cold blue eyes looking fixedly at the floor. Is this symptomatic of an anxious first day or something more sinister? Put your hands where I can see them, I want to tell him, before my under-stimulated mind fantasizes they are brandishing something, discreetly wielding the blunt object of my demise. Continue reading “NHS Admin Temps Explained by Mrs Sue Bissett”