Gok Wan Me

Gok Wan my body.

Bear Grylls over my hills.

Freddie Mercury alert me and

Scorsese dilate me.

Tarantino my velcro.

Van Gogh me like toffee and

Jamie froth and spill me.

John Lennon my delusion.

Freddie Flintoff all my clothes

and Ewan McGregor all over me

until I

Gok Wan my body.

© First published in Brittle Star, issue 30, Spring 2012


Growing Up Going Up North

 I’m taller than you lately

still out of habit you inadvertently

strap me up snug on the backseat.

In the front you speak mutely

counting the miles earnestly

eyes on the road responsibly.


You pay the bill at the pub where we stop

and I sit dumb, my mouth bottled up

with angry confusion, a bipolar flower

sitting on my strapped-up words

just in case they escape

and slap you in your grown-up face.

© First published in The North, issue 56, July 2016

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