Poetry

This did not have to happen. No, none of this had to happen.

Homely, lonely night. Venus shines against vacancy.He doesn’t paint the bars that keep him so far from starry

We, the silver birch. Villagers say we are The Three Sisters.

I start to think you stink like Beowulf

More Than a Handful is about revisiting childhood and seeing things both as a child and as an adult.

It’s all how you juggle the chaos, the strife of a circus life.