So it seems as if I have started drafting a new series, using tiny details of a body as jumping off points. I have been hankering after something new to set me writing outside of the MA and had been planning something basic to give me a kickstart, like, going to a gallery. The tiniest patch of skin on someone else resulted in my last piece, written a couple of days ago. I’ve set myself the task of writing fictive scenes, which is a departure from my usual more autobiographical stuff. I also hope that Edward Venning and I are going to write together again, and I’ve sent him Seashell, saying that we need to butcher it.

I think the point is that I should just write and keep writing, and the fact that I post pieces online forces me to keep re-editing them, given that first drafts are always SO BAD! Can’t really be precious about them. The Fogo pieces have been shredded and reformed so many times across two years and I’m still not done.

Six

Double-prong smash and grab job

Digits don’t work as hard

The bounce of

Concrete

Weedkiller slivers

Cool for school

Hopping on cracks.

Lurching crazy

Pavement in the way

Run faster than feet

Sluice with sound effects

So many teeth shining

The sun!

Six!

Last week

Exposed

Impossible to hide if that smile breaks.

Breakfast lovers

Snap pop

Leftover milk’s warm choc

Unwanted

Still

hands

Broken or not.