Tag: breakfast

untitled haibun

Ferried by the wind, salt shoots up my nose. Blasts of air, not sparing in their rhythm crawl over my skin and I pain for water. Untrammelled waves crush any sand that lays crumbling on the beach. I see the man I was with last night – a half-smoked cigarette pendulous in his mouth like a secret.

He is still. As though he is stranded and doesn’t know where to go; not sure about how to spoor one foot in front of the other, or even how to breathe. The cigarette recedes to his lips and he spits it onto the sand. I don’t know who he is.

I walk to the bedroom, my eyes drop to the sheets and remember – nodding at the colours that I know have seeped through to the mattress. Worry abates, curiosity turns my lips upward. The wind swathes between the terrace door and the kitchen table. I walk to where the kettle clings to the bench, closer to the edge than I would like. I push it back, smell him behind me and drop my head.

Salt on skin
like raw sugar
yet not sweet at all

little larder

Barista’s with more kick than the coffee

in all kinds of kicks.

Owning their styles like:

black rectangular spectacles and segmented hair,

a shaved side of the head

a boy with crimps on his scalp like a single lonely plough through a wheat field.

They inch, tilt and lean into their work.


Workin’ hard for the money – so hard for it, honey.

(my date is late)


‘No ordinary love’ bounces across the crisp air,

rushing through the door like a repaired pneumothorax.

I’m back to 1993 and sixteen in one hot mess over that blonde boy

with the eyes that change colour when he’s by the river


‘There’s nothing like, you and I, baby.’


And to think I hauled my ass back to him three years later

for more blonde hair, cutting back from the crown;

longer this time, framing his beautiful face,

touching his sun-skimmed shoulders, all skinny and broad.

Shoulders I would cling to like a calf to its mother.

Cling, grab, claw – baying for something made of flesh.

Something that was not there.


And then he set me free –

a rope flaying in rough waters –

enough to make me break.