Yellow Diaries #1

So, today, after I left a shop at lunchtime, I was thinking about why some folk, including other people of colour, tend to not consider racism against yellow people. Do they think  - it doesn't happen - it's not as serious as racism against other races  - it doesn't happen frequently enough to warrant attention... Continue Reading →

Fear, or, a portrait.

Lorna has felt fearful this week. Whether or not this fear is justified or even logical is, in this case, immaterial. Travelling on a train out of London away from urban life last week, walking through two carriages which contained no people of colour. Being a small, young-looking female - still a Mademoiselle, not a Madame... Continue Reading →

#6 A period

Do these join up When a Spanish clown tells you you're fabulous, that's your day made. An egg dropped dead. Letters laid in thanks. Who'll read them. Some code to some one some time in the future for what to happen The same moon, the same moon, the same moon I can't see right now... Continue Reading →


I want to smell you til I die Our noses each the closest point to kiss Up close, I miss the view But far, I cannot breathe you with my skin Like he loved her + she loves him I want to smell you til I die

#5 Peepers

(for Gloria)   I still think of Gander airport 5 a.m. arrival - is that right? Folk go home but I Flashing light (arcade fun) Whose thumbs? What's in the canteen/(             ) round the corner? How do I wrap myself round this (anti-theft)            ... Continue Reading →

#4 Oh No, Immolation

Is this growing Up and In and Deep is where I  He never missed Miss Ms Mrs Mad Am I growing Made up stories  His  Mine's deep, slit silting, stalled flying A full tank Flying    F    l y i n g

#3 Puff

Like that movie but not. If I injected you with chemicals, if you melted inside your case, if I made a hole at the base of your toe (big) and placed you on a grate. I wouldn't wait to watch what happened. Who would fold you up to take less space? Pastry roll you out.... Continue Reading →

#2 One of yours

Fifty pounds on your fiftieth birthday, that's what I'll spend, my love. Ginger sweets, a baseball card, a poster of a Porsche, precious. Precious. Things said twice mean more.   We ate boiled eggs together When I ask about Steve you tell me he's a plan Steve wants the menus to look just right I like... Continue Reading →

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