I am working on a new poem for the Fruitmarket Gallery at the moment. It’s taking shape in my mind, some blasts of energy and a feeling of lonely strangeness. Maybe poem writing is always a bit of an out-of-body … Continue reading →
'Rain falls and springs rise up.
Things separate us.
Sea was sent out saltless
In clouds, to fall on land,
To live in different worlds,
Hunt and find its own way home..'
'To be the one who arranged one's own discomfort: that was the comforting thing.'
'Language is the fruit of partition, and the pay-off of loss.'
'Culture is only the face society puts on things, and changes with the tautness of the purse-skin.'
'If the world was flat, you could always see out but would always look back.'