PROMPTS

I have a spare island if that helps

Yes, I have big feet

The various conjunctions of our disparate lives

Hugh Drama on British Rail

The bare floor, my father crying

Picnic in Potters Field

Like a gendarme drinking a cognac

Buses full of the dead

Love squeezed down to drops

That kiss was only flesh and you are fled

A fire breaks out on the line

The casual vulgarity of a Tory MP

Waiting to become barbarians

Would a red swan be beautiful?

The room smells of old dope and ghosts

Trees grow from carcasses

The street empties, then fills with soldiers

My mother knits straitjackets

Prose, but spoken better

Jibber-Jabber, Jibber-Jabber, marry-ing the Pope

Mr Chalk and his wife, Mrs Cheese

My great-grandfather buried the hanged

Dram on the Bung Mr Spooner

Like clock-don’t-work

Polish the glasses, put out the linen

The unremembered boys of Abersychan

As Green waves claim us