
Last Gasp: a short poem written after a dream
It begins between Jaws and Titanic and water that surges and hurls but when I find the air through spray I see, inside a captive,
It begins between Jaws and Titanic and water that surges and hurls but when I find the air through spray I see, inside a captive,
There were a lot of dinosaurs in Sam’s room, and nearly as many in Lola’s. They both had dinosaurs on their pyjamas, and their backpacks
In a downmarket flat in a comfortable English town there lived a shy grandma. She lived with a guilt she didn’t suppose it would ever
There are Union Jacks on my street, and in these egalitarian eyes they’re not a pretty sight. In spite of the XR and BLM messages
There were four of us at the table, all of us heartbroken but committed, and none of us sure what to do – not just
Last Sunday, in Quaker Meeting, a wonderful woman called Marjorie, who is 91, ‘gave ministry’ about risk. She didn’t actually use the word, but she
This year will be different, I say – sometimes out loud. This year I will give everything, I promise myself. Because if we don’t change
Recently, two years after my last author-in-school visit, a teacher from a comprehensive asked if she could book me for a Diversity and Inclusion Day.