midwinter
by Tom Pickard the house empty a gust of sun and some bird thinks it spring I’ve just seen her on a vid the river in flood in a mis –
The riddle of a piece of string
by Tom Pickard at one end; sharp, penetrating, a sliver of steel slid between ribs to stake the heart, solid as a hangman’s knot, cruelly
objet trouvé
by Tom Pickard don’t get me wrong, neighbour, I just want your dog to stop shitting on my step. I may be dissing it, it could be your bitch. I’m
High in an Alpine Café
by Tom Pickard A small isolated café with a large empty car park overlooks a range of moorland tops that drop into a lush valley. Sausage rolls,
Homage
by Tom Pickard a stripper strokes the slope of her hip; Hokusai painting mount Fuji.
New Year’s Day 2010
by Tom Pickard the blizzard blown out a snow blower goes below sun white Watch Hill a growking raven groaks, my first – foot flying past