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