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after breakfast
a week

a month

a year

write a


a kind of mundane / spiritual poem


as he sat down
to breakfast on
child number three
saturn mumbled something like

'lately i’ve been feeling that lately i’ve been feeling that lately i’ve been feeling that

something isn’t quite right...'

can you feel me?


children & dogs
are good at telepathy
i want to be a child & a dog again
not an insensitive adult a

dept at touch typing
but unable to speak
on my god given


i had to go
to wakefield citilodge
to solve the problem
with quantum physics
but i didn’t do it alone
i enlisted the help of
a 3 year old boy
he scooted back and forth
on the legs of his white plastic high chair & said
‘look, there are waves emanating out of me
& not only forwards but also backwards & everything that has
ever happened
& will happen
is occurring RIGHT


i gave birth
to a one legged jackdaw & as she hopped
out of my womb
she said
‘my name is Kutka
& i have come to teach you about control:
you have less than a speck of dust
in a hurricane
& that’s the good part’

& if life
is suffering
then what are

the starlings playing at?

Breakfast Psalms & Subsequent Eruptions


limited edition risograph publication of poems 

and essays now available to buy online.

Features CA Conrad, Nasim Luczaj, Coby Sey,

Izabella Scott, Felice Moramarco & GFR.

Originally printed by John Henry Baker at Heath Street Baptist Church.


jordan peterson

crawled into my

large intestine

& refused to budge

the doctor said

she'd seen this

before & the only

way to lure him

out was with

turkey ham

'he just loves

turkey ham'

she said as she

pulled the endoscopic

camera out of me

& rinsed it in the sink

i heed her advice

& that night placed

a fishing rod

at the end of my bed

so that the hook

would dangle above

my mouth as i slept

--i baited it

with turkey ham

and turned the light off

i woke to find not only

JP snagged

but also slavoj zizek

slurring over a platter

of roast chicken

no wonder my breath

has smelt like shit

of late

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