One day you may find ref1

Patience, ref1

Picked up in anticipation and dropped in greater disappointment ref1

Rain twisting down the air poles ref1

Remember this, the Europeans ref1

Rhythm, rhythm, ref1

Sleep is a goddess to me now, ref1

So who has lost, ref1

Some people on bus seats shake at the shoulders, ref1

Some would say there was no moon ref1

Spell bound, ref1

Spell me freedom ref1

Take the sea in handfuls ref1

The Arts Council criteria for funding is to conform, ref1

The barley field wished but swayed, ref1

The bridge between girl and woman, ref1

The children nearby came to our secret garden, ref1

The clock clicks in a child’s hand ref1

The daisy that spits pure acid, ref1

The day will come ref1

The kingfisher plummets into the river ref1

The lemons you suck are from Spain, ref1

The moon is a scuffle hunter scouring the sky ref1

The way he ref1

There is a rhythm, a soul’s rhythm, ref1

There’s a man who lives in a London apartment, ref1

These compressed patches of earth. ref1

These eyes are the windows to my soul, ref1

They always said I was over the edge ref1

They’ve got shoulders straight as Hulme flyover, ref1

Third planet from the sun, this spinning earth. ref1

This is a celebration of sound, ref1

This is the night mail crossing the border, ref1

This train is bound for Wigan, this train. ref1

Tide twists on the Thames and lifts the lea to the brim of Bow ref1

Triangular sandwiches lounge on plates. ref1

Upset the art, smash the applecart, ref1

w  f  t  n  w  t  r  w  r  i  c ref1

Was it a café window ref1

Water cupped in hands ref1

We are like cement, soft and protected, ref1

We don’t cram around the radio any more. ref1

We laughed, played draughts, ref1

We should prepare for arguments, ref1

We’ve got a mountain on the horizon, ref1

Well, I am a poet and it is my life. ref1

Where did all that cotton come from ref1

Whirlwinds attract you more than the common breeze. ref1

Whose is the gutter, ref1

Why ref1

With less than the pressure ref1

You ref1

You and all your arrogance, ref1

You are so perfect ref1

You can’t sweep dust under the rug any more. ref1

You knock upon my door ref1

You part of me. ref1

You remind me, ref1

You say I am a lying child ref1

You’re as popular as a posted ref1

‘One of the most original, challenging poets writing in Britain today...A prodigious talent’ Daily Mail