

UFO sighting near HighgateIm dabbing my cats war wounds with cotton wool, when, through the bathroom pane, a zigzag of light,UFO sighting near Highgate
a UFO from deep cloud, hovers, then streaks north.
I gallop upstairs, pound my neighbour Amy's door.
Only the second time we've spoken, shes sceptical.
I do not know if UFOs exist, but space X, what is
not known, should be kept open. Lets pursue it,
I say. We hit the street, make for Archway station,
where the UFO seemed headed. The meze bars doors are wide open, its candlelit tables empty. All bodies snatched off the street. Just a rush


TiltParking lot, stars, cut hearts, leather on the backseat, I like the smell of petrol when it burns, dont make cars like they used to.Tilt
Blue Mustang, leather on the backseat, tell me youve got a cut heart, dont make love like they used to. Ill walk away from everyone.
Petrol flush, hearts, a derelict car, it runs on fear. Where do you go when the city shrinks to a small town? Thats where I left my youth.
Parking lot, cars, derelict fears, Ill walk away from everyone. Tell me I dont have a heart.  


RorschachToday the world ends, but in the meantime Ive a case, a bar to clear out, fingers to break, maybe arms, rough work exhuming the facts, why else frequent this juke joint where the whores go cheap, everyone's half cut, even the kids run high on drugs, little crack weasels, no one holding out for zilch beyond the next hit. I put on my face and Im indestructible, a force of nature, doing what no one else will. Through cheap stalls, stale tat, fast food, fry-ups and red light districts, New York has gone to hell, racketeers in lifes temple, car gets jacked, they just stand byRorschach


Small talkTapping the baton of her teaspoonSmall talk
twice on the saucer, a bright start,
'You've dropped out,' says his mother.
Her vision of a career in White Hall
disappointed by his small charity job
and arts trifles, not one to acknowledge
the legislative clout of poets. She's
a resurrectionist, keen to deliver him
to Society's scalpel, 'What's wrong?'
through the light percussion of cutlery, mobile phone calls, and monotone
hum, which he hears as Om.
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100 Themes Challenge!
Secondly, as well as the launch for Fox, K and I are thinking of doing a semi-regular downloadable audio show as part of the Fuselit site/experience. It'll have some music, some poetry, maybe a sketch or two or a short drama piece - do you want to be our 'featured poet' for the first one? You could either send us recordings of you reading out, or we could read out your work.
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Fuselit - pocket poetry and art, made with love and diligence!
Roundtable Review - reviews, articles and new writing in poetry, fiction, film, art and stage.
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Mimesis
From Loki, an apology/On my moped/Kirk and co./Heroic Code
Cool! Will look forward to the recording.
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Fuselit - pocket poetry and art, made with love and diligence!
Roundtable Review - reviews, articles and new writing in poetry, fiction, film, art and stage.
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