Sunday, 15 September 2019


I'm just back from a couple of days in Barcelona. Nothing has changed here. The crime minister still plays the scoundrel's populist card. Words fail me.
Here are a couple of small poems I wrote while I was away.
I simply wrote what I saw.



four sharp taps on the pressure vessel
his second or third percussive announcement
pulls me from my sleep
no need to ask if it’s the gasman
plying for trade in the street below


this square is built over a car park
which precisely occupies half the area
people huddle in the remainder
to talk eat drink love
by a water fountain
tainted by petrochemical fumes

And here is a small poem I wrote the other week when in Teignmouth.

teignmouth poem number two

he enters with bubble wrap
a poster framed
for the fireplace alcove
something to dream on
when he is back in the real world

Again I saw a man with a bubble wrapped painting walk past me into a cafe, I was sat at a table outside. The poems are there but we have to look.
Here's a collaboration between Johnossi and Anna Ternheim.

Until next time.

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