This poem has absolutely nothing to do with me reaching the end of my time as Managing Editor of Cordite Poetry Review.

just not possible. it’s not possible that the heart could heal itself (within days the way a novel does, metaphorically, or the way a tree heals the wind as it sways not likely. not in my lifetime, or yours will we live to see the human heart sing the way a pop star does having…

no he’s not dead yet (as if he ever could pass on or away from this winged world Ephrem Tamiru! tell us what you think re Anchin Kalmeselesh or else just th sax (sax slow and shark-like snarls through an Asmara bar to hit Thomas Keneally cold in the nose like a sweet tea might…

star swinging so slowly spookily seven signs say someone’s sleepy saying so so softly somnambulent shredding sorrow saxily swaying snakes simmering so snowily sad so smitten saying sutures shiny someone’s sax subtracts sneezes singly singing sinew shutterbug starsigns signs so slender star so saccharine so slow so stunned say something shattering slowly sing something sad…

start: doo-wop is the new ter-weetie: sheet iron rules the world of river commerce, still maniacs wander the streets of wood mill towns aimlessly, listening to portable transistors, waiting till their batteries run down to nothing. sometimes, i wonder what it’s like in pittsburgh, or anywhere, really, sited on the confluence of more than two…

Bara de döda stiger av i Kymlinge … Only yesterday I thought it was a great idea; The trees were still covered in cutesy icicles, Dead birds lined the footpaths & I wanted to Get on at a mystery station – or at least leap Off into some great unknown, wings attached. At the T…

drop drop the hangul! gimme gimme gimme gimme sun raaaaaa – no, the other kind! yessir eeyo davey drop the davey drop the dream, nation! yeeeaah drop it yoda drop it you must yoda! any other kind of sun ra i’m against it against all stooges day dream nations glo-wavers thomas covenant i’m against it…

Call me Kid A, capitalising on my foreign-power language, breezily erasing any thoughts of running aside to land here, finally, in this new town. Way below zero I go, plunging into a new career just as the Metro escalators do, with no thought or choice, only a strange drive to run, and run again, north.…

one year ago today i arrived in sweden on a slow snow train to winter’s nevermind & to black mornings deathly afternoons & mile deep blizzards people did not smile at each other in town & the pub was like an extra from LOTR: littered with snugs & corner tables hiding mysterious drunks today, one…

when REM recruited you to be in “it’s the end of the world …” did they stop to think what effect that might have had on you stop to think about high school pressure or petty jealousy the ostracisation of so-called high achievers by dimwits with no future or hope & no sense of solidarity…

1. returning from the graveyard to rise a level like william faulkner said i made it on a bevel 2. we first met near a pixel in eversong woods jo, our avatars dealt out some serious blows! 3. oh we fought for hours against the ironic orcs my sinister strike & your magnificent stealth 4.…

when you could see it coming coming at you like a giant giant ball of lead or something something heavy cold & dead death contained a hint of fear fear faded & quickly passed passed to an even higher plane planet heavy cold & gone; going to some future island island where the lonely go…