Reading Dossie (Dream 13)

Reading Dossie (Dream 13)

‘You know, the trouble with the whole cog in the machine kind of resignation is that it still justifies inactivity or, rather, a kind of distant activity. It suggests that your existence, that your continued servitude, is essential to the operation of all things; that...
Idiolect On The M6 (Dream 11)

Idiolect On The M6 (Dream 11)

Y’know, we started calling him St. Mina, cos’ of his long, morose face which adopted this weighed down, grey kind of look. His shoulders were slumped, like a scholar’s, and his hands moved in a heavy motion, turning the wheel like he was steering a cruise liner down...
In Gettin’ Paid (Dream 8)

In Gettin’ Paid (Dream 8)

My leg twitches to its alternating self between a gentle vibration and a violent momentum. I try to hold it still and, for long moments, I succeed, until the cold of the broken boiler forces my body to rebel against me once more. I am sat on a shrink-wrapped plastic...
Saturday Bleedin’ Into Saturnight (Dream 7)

Saturday Bleedin’ Into Saturnight (Dream 7)

Have you ever done what we did, and taken a drunken walk down Hope Street to capture art in a no cameras allowed zone? Cos’ we caught what we had left there beneath a suspended girder metal roof in aging marketplace with empty stalls amongst the kitchen refurbishments...
The First Head (Dream 3)

The First Head (Dream 3)

The vicaress of Babel’s picking postcards like cutting flower heads from twisted iron stems, and she has them carted back to her palace by her faithful slave Raphael, who’s still serving community sentence for cutting up that prostitute in the 1980s. She thinks she’s...
Creeping Sea (Dream 1)

Creeping Sea (Dream 1)

I dream that I wake up screaming in Wigan, kicking at the stagnant pier waters/that napalm is good for the constitution/of guilt, of rain-sodden guilt that pools around my feet/of scaffolding growing like mould across the faces of buildings/of empty shopping centres...