A new short story

take the body

banjaxed by its multiplying failures

and the mind

encumbered by unexpected subtractions

so the path ahead narrows and steepens

towards a destination

neither sought nor known

a world-entire begins its slow retreat


keys that opened the house for decades

refuse to turn

no matter how they’re coaxed and coddled

A Sequence of Poems


Everything we have heard and read
pushes us out to get the big contract:
‘with my body I thee worship.’ There already
we see conditions to the important act:
‘in sickness and in health’ ‘till death’ and so on.
At this point our eyes cross. We smile and sign,
having, we think, enough to go on. Good will has mixed and melted yours and mine

It may take years to reach the smallest print,
where happiness hides: ‘no call for certain words’
‘days to remember’ ‘power must be concealed’‘flattery, to be offered without stint’  
clauses not noticed when the astonished birdswatched us undressing in that summer field. 

Keynesian policy recommendations are now the staple of governments around the world but it is hard to believe Keynes himself would endorse them

Some academics have questioned whether Jesus died on the cross. Exploring historical sources, however, we can learn much about the ancient world’s way of death