Author Archives: colinhopkirk

When I run away for the third time I will climb the tallest tree and look back towards my parents’ house to see if they’ve noticed It will get hot and I will become thirsty Climbing down I will see a nest of kittens each one just alive their eyes flyblown I will run forContinue reading “The past, in future tense”

In the beer garden a middle aged man with a cartoon voice a boy’s breaking voice with a goose’s honk thrown in is pontificating to other men in pink shorts and panama about the oil industry the unfairness of windfall taxes over explaining things Their partners have moved to another table

Was it the TV? I was never sure Kojak or Reagan barking at villains villains and hoodlums caught bang to rights Or yet another spat? It was always about money sudden presents a car we couldn’t afford terse letters from the bank It was always about money or his propensity for flirting his restless rovingContinue reading “Who loves ya, baby?”

(after I H Finlay) Potatoes and migrant workers Dressed crab and Amusements Winter wheat and airfields Cabbages and caravan parks

(Coddington Cemetery) It’s a small but perfect thing around sixteen inches wide by twelve or so high Precisely cut in capitals with a simple shield bounded by two stylised forget-me-nots TO THE MEMORY OF ECCLESTON THACKER WHO DIED JULY 29 1884 The stone is slowly sinking Some words are underground

The air is clear and resinous and hot as bells It’s a long way from the caravan through fields of maize a steep ascent through pine to this ravine He has already fallen twice gashed his knees which ache like buggery It’s worth it though boy’s legs mend fast and when did you last seeContinue reading “At altitude”

imagines search parties stretched out across the hills earnest cops and volunteers combing the countryside Checking all known haunts they find most of his dens most but not all not this one Now someone on the radio is saying his name

It was just the shape of a deer It was an effigy a hoax It was a mermaid’s horse It was only sleeping It would rise with the next tide It would race across the dunes Back where it belonged

Thanks for being a reader. Just letting you know that I have a new book out, through those wonderful folks at Leveret Press.

West African pirates still sidle up to tankers armed to the teeth with fear and Kalashnikovs