Tag Archives: Manchester

Pomona Palace Go!

This is exactly the kind of place where I expected to find one.  The problem is, as all Taggers know, finding these kinds of places nowadays – by definition, they don’t tend to exist.  The initial frustration of realising I’d … Continue reading

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Down at the Docks

The madness I feel is neither wild nor remote but intense and sickeningly particular. Particular yet not singular – therein lies the specific swoon and stench of this malady. Where once, in a distant and undoubtedly idealised past, certain borders … Continue reading

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Am I Awake?

“Come through!  Come through the door!”  I don’t know where the voice is coming from.   I think it’s my mother.  All I can see is the darkness.  Beneath my hands the glossy layers peel away, the grit of wood chip … Continue reading

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Going Under

Off the train at Victoria, I pass the great tiled map of the north. The red and black routes swerve and strike out like recalcitrant snakes, besieging my mind, encircling me, my horizons coiling tighter until every breath is a … Continue reading

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The Englishman’s Castle

“In most cases,” Sylvie pushed the chicken onto her fork. “If you can truly define your problem you’re onto a winner, no matter how big your problem is. You can set it up, work against it… develop strategy. If you’re … Continue reading

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Nowhere But Now

Resistance begins underground and explodes from a standing start, Johnny’s in the basement, the B of the BANG.  In every eye blink heartbreak beat the skyline shifts, the city reconfigures, the horizon fractures, sunny canyons are cast in shadow.  Simple … Continue reading

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Looking for Answers

She held my chin, perhaps a little harder than intended, my jawbone between between her forefinger and thumb, and raised my face up to the thin winter light. Seen less vivid rainbows, she winced, inspecting the bruise. Her fingers were … Continue reading

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