A new cover photo - and a poem

Whether involuntary or not, I seem to be settling into something of a routine - at least in the mornings. Upstairs in our house we are lucky enough to have a small area which is just large enough to house a chair and side table, and it’s here I seem to find myself working from around 9 a.m. most mornings. It’s bright and cosy, as you can see.

In the afternoons I tend to work downstairs in my study, either at the computer on my desk or on the sofa with my laptop. (The beauty of being able to share material across devices!) Working in multiple locations helps keep things fresh, of course. Other places I work? Occasionally, if I need to get a complete change of scene, in the library at Lincoln University.

Varying location is a little like alternating between projects; it keeps me stimulated and things alive. At the moment I’m drafting what is turning out to be a novella of some kind. This sits alongside short-listing for the New Contexts: 6 anthology, and preparing the physical copies of 17 Alma Road, my Grimsby Docks collection of poems and photographs, and the short story anthology I’ve edited, Pebbles on the Strand. Those three should be available in mid-February.

I’m also preparing for a mentoring assignment at a writers’ retreat in 10 days, and the Hammond House Literary Festival on 21st February.

And the poem?

Not my usual subject matter, but somehow this one had to be written…

collateral damage
Shejaiya, Gaza 15th December, 2023

fear pulled the trigger
veiled his dust-dry eyes
turned a white flag
to a symbol of defiance
the opening of a trap

fear pissed his pants
nothing more than that
no medical excuse
other than the inevitable
rush of adrenaline

fear made them cower
behind the shattered concrete
a burned-out bus
fear deafened them
to the ricochets of conscience

in the palace of politics
fear spills soundbites
from the guts of wisdom
translated into a language
we pretend makes sense